


The Circle of Life

by Calescent



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Cullenyness, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Listen to Aveline- my choice, Lyrium Withdrawal, Random OCs - Freeform, Second Chances, Slow Build, Suicidal Thoughts, The angst is the plot, corny but true the power of friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-03-19 16:34:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 38
Words: 124,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3616704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calescent/pseuds/Calescent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Dragon Age Inquisition, Solona Amell comes to Skyhold to see what happened to her husband.</p><p> </p><p>Why? Cause I am a horrible person and while working on my Alistair/Amell fic I wondered what would happen to them as the world moved on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Amell in Skyhold

Solona Amell walked up the steps of Skyhold, concentrating on not tripping. _First impressions are key._ This might not work if she made a fool of herself from the get-go. That could be saved for later. Right now, she needed information. 

The grand hall was full. She saw Orlesians, Fereldens, Free Marchers, and representatives from almost every major classification the people of Thedas put themselves in. _So many different people in one place. What had she gotten herself into?_ The Inquisition reborn… it was something that had echoed across Thedas as the sky was torn open over Ferelden. But that was done and over with, Corypheus finally defeated.

At least that was what everyone had been saying.

Honestly, and Solona was struggling to feel guilty about this, she didn’t care about any of it. Alistair was the one who respected the concept of a duty. She was content helping people and learning new things but Alistair was always drawn by the grand causes that crossed the breadth of Thedas.

She shook her head and approached a guard, the symbol of the Inquisition a beacon- _of what?_ \- on his chest. 

“Excuse me, I would like to speak with the Inquisitor,” Solona said to the guard. The guard laughed. “You and half of the world it seems. I’m sorry. The Inquisitor is not seeing anyone at this time.”

“Please,” Solona repeated. _She couldn’t back down. She had to be strong._ “It is important.”

The guard smiled at her. “Again, I’m sorry serah. Everyone in this room is important somewhere. The Inquisitor expressed direct orders not to be disturbed.”

Part of her wanted to take the man at his word and come back later, but she knew she couldn’t. She couldn’t spend a single more moment than she had to in this kind of agony. _Be strong. For him._

“Very well, but could you at least let him know I am here? Sister Leliana can vouch for me.” The guard blinked at the mention of the Left Hand of the Divine. 

“Um… sure… I believe I can do that. Who should I say is requesting his attention?”

Solona straightened, trying to make herself seem important. _Maybe Zevran should have taught me acting instead of fighting._ “Solona Amell. I used to be the Warden-Commander. Some call me the Hero of Ferelden.”

It didn’t take long before the guard returned, a party of people behind him. The Inquisitor was easy to spot. He was a tale, handsome man, with dark tousled hair. A dark skinned beauty- _could this be Josephine?_ \- exchanged loving looks with him before standing to the side, a sheet of paper almost attached to her arm. 

The Inquisitor sat on an impressive chair and looked down at her. Solona shuffled and then breathed. She hated these formalities. Anora had allowed her to ignore most of them whenever she got forced into the court. _Cool. Calm. You may not have an army behind you anymore like he does but you too saved the world in the way. You aren’t less than him._ Her internal pep talk didn’t help much with armed soldiers surrounding her and hundreds of eyes dissecting her, but at least it distracted her.

“Ex-Warden-Commander Amell. You are aware that I told the Wardens to leave Orlais, correct?” The Inquisitor’s voice was cool and low, a leader’s voice. Alistair talked like that sometimes.

“I am, your Worship,” Solona said, her voice small and thin in comparison. 

“Then might I ask why you are here?” The Inquisitor leaned forward. 

_This is such a bad idea._ Solona took a deep breath to steady herself. She had to do this.

“Where is my husband, Inquisitor?”

Silence. 

The dark haired man, the Hero of Thedas, blinked down at her and a smile twisted his lips. “You expect me to know where your man is? Am I the village gossip? Check where you last left him, perhaps he will be there.” He laughed and the assembled group followed. 

Solona’s face burned. The woman who might have been Josephine shot the Inquisitor a look and he sobered but that didn’t stop the nobles from tittering. To the side, a strawberry-haired dwarf with a strange looking crossbow frowned at her for a moment, then looked at his feet. _He knew something._ That, if nothing else, gave her the courage to not just flee Skyhold.

“Who is your husband that you would think I know what happened to him? I promise you, if it is in my power to find out, I will do my best to serve the person who freed Ferelden from the Fifth Blight,” the Inquisitor said, pretty words spilling from his lips.

“Alistair.”

The crowd kept talking and laughing but the Inquisitor stopped smiling. _She had been right. That was a relief._

“I’m sorry.”

The words felt like a death toll. Solona clenched her hands into fists to keep herself from trembling. 

“Your husband died in the Fade protecting my companions and me from a demon. He died to help make up for all the damage the Wardens had caused.”

Someone could have shoved a sword through her chest and she wouldn’t have noticed the extra pain. _That couldn’t be true. Alistair couldn’t be…_

“Could you be any more cruel?” A familiar Orlesian accent that she hadn’t heard in years spoke. “Next time you tell someone the love of their life is dead, do it in private.”

Leliana stepped through the crowd and approached her. Solona looked at her old friend, unable to move. “Let’s take you away from here.” With the sister’s help, Solona managed to get out of the crowd's gaze before the tears began to fall.


	2. The Lay of the Land

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Solona is going through the stages of grief. It's depressing and I'm probably missing some tags.

“I know he didn’t give you the best first impression, but Maxwell Trevelyan is a good man,” Leliana said, playing with Solona’s hair as her head lay in the sister’s lap. “He is kind, truly caring about his people. He has had many sleepless nights because of the decisions he’s made.”

“He pushed the Wardens out of Orlais,” Solona murmured. 

“That he did. But after everything the Wardens did, he felt like they were too much of a threat.”

Solona sat up, fingers creating sparks. “A threat? Wardens give their lives away for the sole purpose of stopping a Blight. I’ve done the math, Leliana. Do you know how many good men and women died on the chance that an Old God might be tainted in the last four hundred years? We die and people forget.” She stared down at her fists, tears threatening. She couldn’t believe she still had any left. 

Leliana rubbed her shoulders and Solona fell back down. _Oh, Alistair. What would you do?_ The answer crossed her mind, making her rub at her eyes. _He would joke about it._

The sister let her be for several minutes as she calmed down. Then she spoke. “You really need to consider getting some fresh air.” 

“Let’s open a window.”

“Solona…”

“I know. But what is out there that interests me, Leliana? It’s like my sun has gone out. I’m stumbling around in the dark and calling it living. What is the point of that?”

Leliana’s blue eyes were sad and suddenly Solona couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright.” She rolled off Leliana’s bed. “Fresh air it is.” 

The sister watched her, but Solona was out the door before she could say anything. She owed Leliana an apology but right now, she just couldn’t… think. Her emotions were running haywire and a cool breeze sounded perfect.

She swept by soldiers, courtiers, and nobles, ignoring the looks they gave her. She was a mess, but she didn’t care. What did it matter what anyone thought now that Alistair… she slipped on a rug, crashing into a curtain. Something ripped. 

Face burning, Solona fled the sympathetic stares.

She found herself on the battlements. There were less people up here so it was quiet. Solona walked to the edge and leaned against the cool stone. This was better. Leliana wasn’t nearby worrying over her and there were no walls suffocating her. It was just her and the sky.

“Enchanter… I’m mean, Warden-Commander… or…um... Amell…”

Solona raised her head and blinked. 

“Cullen?”

The man before her was older with more scars, but he still had his blond curly hair cut short. He shuffled nervously. 

“A…are you alright?”

He still stuttered. Then again, if she found an old friend on a battlement in such as state, she would probably be nervous too. 

“I’ll be fine.” _Maybe._ It was an automatic response. A continuous effort to keep others from worrying about her. 

Cullen looked uncomfortable. He finally sighed and came up next to her, leaning on a stone a pace away. 

“What do you want, Cullen?” She was being unreasonable, but she still couldn’t care.

“You look cold.”

Her arms and legs were covered in goosebumps, she was dressed in one of Leliana’s spare nightgowns in front of a templar, and she _still_ didn’t care. Something was definitely wrong with her. 

“I should probably go get dressed then, shouldn’t I” The words came from her lips but she didn’t remember telling them to be spoken. A problem for another time. She turned away from Cullen’s concerned gaze and went to find some clothes.

oOo

Hours later she was on the battlements, swaying. _When had been the last time she was drunk?_ Years. Probably that time they had run into Zevran and had gotten involved in a drinking game with a group of surface dwarves. Alistair had… _Alistair._

Solona glared at the bottle in her hand. _Wasn’t this thing supposed to make her forget?_ It wasn’t working. The people in the bar had been so nice though. The Qunari that was nothing like Sten, a blond elf who made jokes she couldn’t quite understand, and the dwarf with the chest hair who told her Alistair had died a hero. Had saved his life. 

She wasn’t sure if she liked that dwarf. 

She looked out of the dark expanse of the Frostbacks. It was beautiful up here. So peaceful and serene. _What would it be like to be completely surrounded by that beauty?_

Gripping the end of the bottle with her teeth, Solona climbed up onto the edge of the battlements, balancing on the stone. _This wasn’t that hard._

She took a large step over the gap in between stones and spun around. It was like she was dancing amongst the stairs.

“Solona!” A familiar male shouted.

She looked back at Skyhold to see Cullen running towards her followed by a group of worried-looking soldiers. Cullen slowed when he got within several body lengths of her and motioning his people to stay, took a step in her direction.

“You don’t want to be doing this, Solona.” The Commander of the Inquisition sounded like a dragon-trainer. _Wait, those didn’t really exist._ A drufflo trainer then. 

“Do what?” Solona asked, remembering the bottle in her hand and taking a drink. _Foul._ She had never liked alcohol. Why was she even bothering?

“Just stay there and we can talk about it,” Cullen said, taking another slow step.

 _Talk?_ She didn’t want to talk anymore. She wanted— _dark blond hair, an ever present smile, adoring brown eyes…_

Solona’s hands trembled and she took another swig of the nasty-tasting liquid. Anything to dull the pain. _Why wouldn’t books work anymore?_ She needed a distraction.

“Have you ever wanted to fly, Cullen?”

The Commander watched her, inching forward. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

Solona eyed the expanse of black with white pinpricks. “I always hope that one day they will say some mage has discovered the spell for it, but they haven’t yet. Be like a bird, soaring over the world. Do you think birds leave their troubles behind when they fly?”

“I imagine it takes a lot of work to get off the ground.”

She laughed; he was practical. That hadn’t changed. “Of course, Commander.” She saluted him with her bottle. “You are right. But that doesn’t stop the dream of a possibility.”

Solona turned to get a better look at the landscape and then there was an awful instant of _nothingness_ under her foot. She fell, a scream bubbling up in her throat. 

Pain stopped her descent and she crashed into unyielding stone, tasting blood. Something had gotten hold of her wrist. Solona looked down and started to shake. She was a long way up.

“Hold on, Solona!” Cullen yelled. Solona twisted so that she held onto the person gripping her wrist. Within several endless seconds, more arms appeared over the edge of the wall, helping to hoist her up. 

She came over the battlement, stumbling into Cullen. He was still in his version of a uniform and something about a man in armor had her wrapping her arms around him. She could feel his body instinctively pull back but he restrained himself. 

“Get the Nightingale. I don’t care if she’s sleeping. Tell her… tell her that her friend needs her. We’ll be in my office.”

With that, strong plated arms encircled her and for a single sweet moment, Solona could pretend that Alistair was still alive.

oOo

Leliana was furious of course. She lashed out at Cullen when she found him holding her behind his desk. She swore at Solona a couple of times as she pulled the mage from the embrace that was both familiar and strange. Despite her consciousness telling her that Cullen was not Alistair, Solona didn’t want to leave. She needed that bit of Alistair again. To make her laugh, to assure her that she was safe, to tease her about not allowing them to own anything breakable. Her light, her love. 

He was gone. 

The thought tormented her as she found herself traveling across Skyhold and being tucked into Leliana’s bed. The last thing she heard before she fell asleep was Leliana whispering to a soldier outside their door. 

“Don’t let her leave.”


	3. Fixing Things

The combination of beer, tears, and almost dying had Solona sleeping to almost noon. She awoke, bleary-eyed and head-pounding. In a way, perfect. Her physical state finally matched her emotional one. Still in the clothes she had worn before, Solona went to the door. An unfamiliar soldier stood outside of it.

“Well, hello.”

“Hero,” the guard said, not smiling.

“If I wanted to go for a walk…” 

“I would ask you to stay put.”

“Okay. Just checking.” She shut the door.

 _So last night did happen._ Solona sank to the floor, head in her hands. It looked like today was one of the days that her emotions were back on. _Why did she miss this?_ Caring hurt. As her head danced with a group of drummers, Solona opened one eye, searching the room.

Finding what she was looking for, she quickly crossed the room, snatching the canteen. To her luck, it was simply water inside. _No more beer and nice dwarves who keep buying me more with a sad expression._

 _Cullen._ Solona’s eyes shot open. If last night really happened that meant that she… She didn’t know what made her feel worse, using Cullen, making everyone think she was suicidal, or remembering how good it felt pretending Alistair was still alive. 

The sick feeling continued to grow until she ran over to the chamber pot, throwing up. She hadn’t eaten much over the last week so it was mostly liquid. When she was finished, she replaced the lid and climbed back into bed, curling up amidst the blankets.

She was still crying when Leliana returned.

Her friend was silent at first, a gentle hand on her shoulder. The presence which had been irritating yesterday, comforted her today. When her tears had slowed, Leliana nudged her over and they lay sprawled out next to each other, staring at the chinks in the ceiling.

“Just like old times,” Solona said softly.

Leliana laughed, equally quiet. “Looking up at the stars after a long day’s travels, making up constellations. The farmer’s dog.”

“The maiden’s eye.”

“Zevran’s pride.”

They both laughed at that one. Solona sighed when her laughter ran out. “Why did life seem so much simpler then? Get some allies, stop the Blight. We had clear enemies to face and clear ways to do it.”

Leliana rolled onto her side to look at her friend. “I don’t think you are remembering it correctly. Was deciding what do with Loghain easy? How about choosing the dwarf king or whether to impregnate Morrigan? It wasn’t any easier. Just different.”

Solona knew her friend was right, but that didn’t change her memories of a happier time. Traveling with Alistair and their friends, fighting darkspawn. She would give her right arm to have just a few minutes of one of those days back.

“Her son is almost ten, you know.”

Solona glanced at Leliana. She must have lost the train of conversation. “What?”

“Morrigan’s son. He is almost ten. I only got to speak to him for a few minutes, but he is quite intelligent and perceptive. It is hard to imagine that he has the soul of an Old God.”

Solona closed her eyes, trying to control her face. Alistair and Morrigan’s son. She had thought about the child several times over the years, but it was usually in relation to wondering how Morrigan was doing than anything else.

“Did you know we were trying for a child?” Solona asked. Leliana didn’t move. “For the last couple of years. I know it was probably stupid, a Warden and a normal person rarely produce a child and with two Warden parents…” She drifted off, the corner of her eyes stinging. She would need a healer if she cried any more.

“I’m sorry, Solona. I didn’t know.” Leliana touched Solona’s arm and Solona rested her head on the Nightingale’s long fingers.

“No, it’s comforting in a way. At least some part of Alistair will get to live on. He exists in a form beyond simple memories.” Solona stared at a ceiling chink. “Perhaps I will try to see him some day. Catch up with Morrigan and talk to her son. I don’t think I’ll be ready for it any time soon but… someday.”

“That’s good,” Leliana said, brushing the mage’s hair off her forehead. “Make plans. It will get easier if you have something ahead of you.”

Brown eyes met blue ones. “Is that how you do it, Leliana? Before we found you in Lothering… is that was you did?”

The sister gave Solona a tired smile. “It’s how you start.”

oOo

She found Cullen in his office, collecting reports and distributing assignments. She found a space near the wall and waited, her bodyguard standing several paces nearby.

The Commander was focused on the job at hand, giving his men and women orders with a solid assurence. It eased Solona somewhat to see him so clearly in control. Before Skyhold, the last time she had seen him he had been recently tortured, wanting to kill all mages. Older Cullen was calmer. She wondered if a biographer might say his wisdom had been carved into him. Life hadn’t been kind to the templar.

Solona fidgeted, remembering what Greagoir had told her over the years about Cullen. He had been in Kirkwall during… everything. She hoped the Commander had found a better life in his new position.

Finally some of the crowd began to dissipate and Cullen spotted her. He blinked and looked away, rubbing at his neck.  
“Enchanter… Warden…”

“Cullen,” Solona smiled at his awkwardness. That was familiar. “You knew me as an apprentice. I don’t think any formality is required. Solona, please.” She continued hesitantly. “Unless you feel it is necessary, Commander.”

“No, of course not!” Cullen raised his hands, looked at them curiously, before placing them back at his sides. “I… well.” He sighed and took a deep breath. “I trust you are feeling better.”

Solona was about to say she was fine when something stopped her tongue. This was Cullen after all. “I could be much worse,” she said honestly.

Cullen nodded and looking anxious, said “Would like a seat? Unless you have somewhere you need to go…”

“No.” Solona eyed her guard. “I have nowhere to be.” The truth of that statement struck her and she sank down on the chair Cullen found. It was a rickety thing and she had barely placed her weight on it when she was falling over backwards. She hit her head on a bookshelf and saw stars.

“Solona!” Cullen was by her side, her guard appearing on her other.

“Sorry, I guess I wasn’t supposed to sit yet.” The guard stared at her and began to laugh. Solona smiled and after a second, even Cullen chuckled a little. It eased some tension and moving some papers aside, Cullen offered her a seat on his desk.

“Not that I mind the company, but is there a reason you came to see me, Solona?” Cullen’s directness shouldn’t have surprised her but it did.

“Yes. Well, I did have a reason.” Solona itched her arm, wondering why it was suddenly so hot in here. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry Cullen. For last night. I... wasn’t myself. I want to blame to alcohol but it was probably something of my own fault too. So, sorry again.”

Cullen watched her with those brown eyes for a long moment. Solona looked back down at her feet, trying not to be embarrassed by thinking of something else. Maybe she and Leliana could go shoe shopping sometime soon. Find some blue slippers with ribbons.

“There is nothing to forgive.” Solona’s eyes darted to the Commander’s face. He seemed sincere. “You lost someone. That doesn’t forgive many things, but in this instance, you did nothing wrong. Though it would be a disgraceful end to the Hero of Ferelden if she fell off the fortress.” Solona smiled but his words drew up a distant memory. Of the taste of darkspawn blood and an ancient fortress. Of a young Warden telling her that her triumph of surviving the Joining shouldn’t end in her tripping off a cliff.

Her mouth tasted like ash and she rose to her feet. Cullen stood as well, face worried. “Solona?”

“I have to go,” she whispered and raced out the door. At some point she stumbled, falling down the last couple of stairs. The world spun but she got to her feet, ignoring her various pains and her guard’s words and kept running.

It didn’t take her long to realize that she had nowhere to go. She stood in a corner of Skyhold, a stable to her right, and felt the weight of dozens of eyes upon her. She turned to the stable, walking amongst the horses. She stopped before a brown one with kind eyes, petting its long nose. After a few minutes, she opened the gate and deaf to the stable master’s protests, entered the stall. Some more strokes had the horse calmly accepting the stranger.

Solona leaned against the warm neck. Here was someone who wasn’t judging her. She remained like that for a long time, even as the guards changed and darkness fell.


	4. Developing a Rhythm

The next day she was mad. Somewhere she had read that there were different stages of grief, but Solona was pretty sure some god was just picking her emotions out of a hat.

Knowing she would regret it later if she didn’t, she tried to keep a civil tongue to the people she met in the hallways and even to her guard. But it was trying, adding to the flames that burned in her chest. 

Cullen looked up when she entered, eyes moving rapidly from her face to the sparks flying from her tightened fists. She could almost see the templar side rising. 

“Is there something you need, Solona?” He asked cautiously.

“Do you have anything that needs to be destroyed?”

The Commander paused, still tense. “Why?”

Solona felt a twinge of guilt. He didn’t deserve her anger. None of them did. _None but that dark-haired Inquisitor…_

“I need to hit something. Repeatedly. With magic. I don’t think it will be left standing when I’m done.”

Cullen grabbed some papers and flipped through them. “There was an avalanche on the Southern Path. You could help clear it.”

Solona bobbed. “Thank you, Cullen.” 

The Southern Path was a mess of people and machinery but a few words from her guard had the engineers clearing it quickly. A small audience formed, curious. Solona ignored them. 

Lightning formed easily in her palms and she sent it crashing in to the boulders. More lightning fanned the area, cracking stone. She lost track of time, focusing on the strain of muscles as she sent a tempest of energy, a hail of fireballs, and more arcane bolts then she could count into the rocks. Again and again, she struck, determined to work herself to exhaustion. With a final smashing of earth, she fell to her knees, heart racing in her ears and hands shaking. 

Excited voices started talking behind her and she peeked at them. The crowd had grown. At the head of the pack, Leliana watched her. Solona sighed and with the help of her guard, managed to stand on her weakened legs.

“And what did that accomplish?” The Nightingale asked. 

“It made me feel better,” Solona replied, matching her friend’s irritated look. 

Leliana sighed, closing her eyes. “Well, at least it did that. But next time when you are releasing anger, try not to destroy the mountain.”

Solona turned around and gaped. The Southern Path was clear, but it looked like a monster had taken an enormous bite out of the side of the mountain next to it. 

_Right…_

oOo

The days passed smoothly after that. Solona found small tasks to occupy her time. She studiously avoided the bar and took to talking to Dagna who had somehow ended up involved in this mess. The healing center didn’t really need her help, but they let her come anyways. The loss of Alistair was ever present, but she was getting better at dealing with it. 

One afternoon, she was wandering the battlements, a guard still trailing after her when she almost ran into Cullen. 

She smiled, an action not quite as forced as it once had been. “Beautiful day, isn’t it Cullen? It’s hard to believe we’re in the mountains sometimes.”

Cullen nodded, distractedly. “Yes, I suppose it is. Solona, could I talk to you for a few minutes? Alone?”

“Alone?” Solona repeated. “Okay…” She fished in her robes for a moment before pulling out a trinket. “Garret.” Her guard came forward. “You should give this to Scout Harding. I think she would like it.” 

The guard stared at the small piece of metal, hand wrapping around it. He shook his head. “I’m not supposed to leave you alone. Thank you but…”

Solona waved off his concerns. “I’m with the Commander of the Inquisition. I’m sure he is capable of keeping me safe. Now go! I won’t tell Leliana.”

The young man smiled at her then and ran off.

“You know your guard is on a rotation to prevent you from becoming friends with them,” Cullen said. 

The information pulled her smile down. “Really? Well… I suppose Leliana knows what she is doing.”

They walked in silence back to his office, each thinking their own thoughts. Cullen shut the door behind them and offered her an open spot on his desk. She sat and he took a seat behind the desk. 

Several more moments passed without Cullen saying anything. Solona peeked at him. He had dark circles under his eyes and it looked like he hadn’t shaved recently. 

“Cullen, is something the matter?”

“Hmm?” The Commander raised his eyes from his hands, surprised. “No. Everything is under control.” Solona nodded slowly and waited. 

“This is probably very selfish of me, but I’ve wanted to say something to you for several years now and since you’re here I want to get it off my chest, even though I know it isn’t a good time.” Cullen’s words came in rush. 

“What is it?”

“Well, I… I wanted to apologize. For what I said back in the Ferelden Circle all those years ago. I was in a bad place, hating all mages. You rescued me and I yelled at you. It was untoward and I should never have done it.”

Of all the things Solona guessed he would say, this wasn’t one of them. _Ten years and he’s still guilty about that._ She shook her head.

“I’ll accept your apology on one condition. That you accept mine.”

“Yours?” Cullen looked mystified. 

“Yes. Mine for not being there when Uldred took over. For not fighting to keep you and the others from going through what you did. Maybe if I hadn’t left, I could have prevented it.”

Cullen reached across the table then paused, hand hovering over her own. She took it. 

“Solona, you can’t blame yourself for that. Uldred would have probably killed you too and then what would have happened? You did the best you could and there is no need to apologize for not being able to do more.”

She looked at him and then blinking fiercely, covered her eyes with her free arm. _Alistair had always said the same._ Laughter intermixing with sobs, she said, “I was doing so well today too. Made it to the afternoon without crying. It was going to be a new record.” 

Cullen gripped her hand tighter, offering what support he could. Her quiet crying wasn’t loud in room. Wind whistled through some crack and paper rustled. Tears coming to an end, she brushed at her cheeks, embarrassed. “Sorry,” she whispered. 

With a final squeeze, Cullen let go of her hand. “There is nothing to be sorry for. If you ever need to cry, you can always come here.” Solona finally looked to him, nose and eyes red, a faint smile tugging her lips. “Thank you Cullen. You’re a good friend.”

A knock on the side door ruined the moment and Solona shot to her feet, alarmed. She felt her hair and nose. She probably looked like a mess. Cullen saw her fear and motioned towards a side ladder. “You can hide up there if you want.” Solona took him up on his offer, somehow managing to climb up the thin rails without falling. 

The space above the office was surprising. A bed took up most of the space with a few other pieces of furniture scattered throughout. Vines climbed the back wall. Cullen stayed here? He truly never left his office. The thought was both saddening and comforting. Sad because over the last few weeks she had seen how hard he worked and comforting because he had a job that he could throw himself into without regrets. 

Cullen told the person outside the door that they could enter and Solona crawled away from the edge. Voices started talking below and Solona leaned against Cullen’s bed. She and Cullen might be slowly regaining their old friendship, but they weren’t to the place where she could go on his bed without permission. _Perhaps if he was female, but since he clearly wasn’t…_

She yawned, eyes catching sight of a hole in the wall. _Huh._ Apparently Skyhold had been rundown when the Inquisition first arrived but Solona hadn’t seen much evidence of its ruin. For Cullen to still have a hole there meant that he must have wanted it. _Interesting._

Watching the sky through the small opening, Solona felt herself drifting. Maybe she would close her eyes. _Just for a second._


	5. Painful Transitions

“Solona,” a soft male voice called. She nuzzled into her pillow, not wanting to wake up yet. “Solona, you can’t sleep here all night.” 

“Why not?” She murmured. The voice laughed quietly. “Leliana would probably kill me. So please wake up.” Solona laughed, pulling herself from the comforting abyss of sleep. She stretched, brushing her fingers against a strong male cheek and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

“But only because it’s you, Alistair,” She purred sleepily, moving her head to rest on a solid chest. “You know I love you, right?” 

Alistair's shoulders were stiff and Solona opened her eyes, looking up into her love’s face. 

It was the wrong face. 

Solona yelped, drawing back only to hit the edge of something soft. The bed. Magic danced on her fingertips and she stared at not-Alistair. Cullen. 

A horse galloped away with her heart as she traced the familiar, unfamiliar face with her eyes. His angles were different, his hair lighter. They were different people. 

Cullen was pale, eyes full of pain. Whether his or hers, she didn’t know and she didn’t want to stay to find out. She scrambled to her feet, edging around the frozen templar to the ladder. She swayed looking down the short expanse of wood rails. One step at a time.

She had gone down two before she fell. She hit the ground hard, crashing to her bottom. It was embarrassing more than anything but it still hurt. 

Curly blond hair appeared over the edge of the balcony. “Solona, are you alright”

“I’m fine,” Solona said. _Maybe that should be my catch phrase._ Without saying anything else, she fled the Commander’s office, going to the sanctuary of the spymaster’s room.

oOo

The next two weeks were painful. Leliana had coaxed out what had happened within a day and had comforted Solona as she cried anew. Not all her pain was from the shock of Alistair being gone again, some of it was her shame of involving Cullen in her personal tragedy. He was a good man and he deserved better. 

So she avoided him, the battlements, the practice areas… the typical places he went. Instead she talked to Dagna, hide amongst the other mages, and tried her hand at crafting armor. Afterwards the weapons smith said he appreciated her effort but if she touched one of his tools again, he’d have her thrown off the waterfall. She kept her hands studiously behind her back after that. 

Two weeks after her failed talk with Cullen, the Inquisitor requested a meeting with her. Solona made sure her hair was combed and her robes were straight before venturing down to the great hall. Josephine met her there and led her to her office.

The women sat and Josephine had a servant fetch them some fresh tea. A steaming cup in-hand, Solona felt herself relax into the chair. She had spent some time over the last month and a half with the ambassador, usually with Leliana, and had found that she liked the woman. She was sweet, considerate, and knew something about everyone. But probably the best thing Solona liked about Jose was how she didn’t form first impression opinions. She waited, getting a second impression and a third before finally making her decision about the person. 

They exchanged pleasantries for a while before the doors down the hall clashed open and footsteps walked toward them. Josephine took a sip of her tea, noticeably tense. Solona peeked around her chair as the Inquisitor came into view, Cullen beside him. Solona sank into the cushions, hoping that he didn’t see her. 

No such luck. Cullen caught a glimpse of her and his steps faltered momentarily. His face went from white to red in several seconds and he looked away, rubbing his arm. Josephine, ever perceptive, saw the whole thing and looked at Solona curiously, who flushed. 

“That will be all, Commander,” the Inquisitor said, dismissing Cullen. The templar saluted, disappearing from Solona’s view. She fiddled with her cup, trying to recapture her sense of calm. 

“Hero Amell, I see you are still with us.” Solona wasn’t sure what to say to this so she nodded. “How long do you plan to stay with the Inquisition?”

 _‘til I figure out where else to go,_ Solona thought. She didn’t have a home anymore. There was no Circle, no family estate or job posting for her to fall back on. She could always travel abroad, the Wardens in other countries would accept her but the thought of starting over again, completely alone frightened her. Alistair had been her home for so long, she never thought about needing anything else. 

Her lack of response didn’t seem to faze him. “You see, Hero. I have let you stay this long because of the services you have rendered to Thedas, but the Inquisition is not a free ride. If you are not a part of it or helping it in some sort of way, I don’t want you here.”

 _Was he going to make her go?_ Her limbs began to freeze and she gave up trying to drink her tea. 

“However, my spymaster and my ambassador both insist that you can be useful to us. My general had mentioned something similar. Even the Divine Victoria sent me a note, congratulating me on getting such an important ally. Everyone around me says to keep you while everything in me says to get rid of you. Why is that, do you think?”

Solona froze. _Cullen and the Divine?_ She had met the previously named Cassandra Pentaghast on a Warden trip to Orlais but she didn’t remember saying that much to her. She swallowed. “Well, I do have some connections to the Ferelden court and my Hero title still bears some weight. If you ever needed something from the Wardens, I could help with that.”

Maxwell Treylen waved off her suggestions. “Those could be helpful, but I already have plenty of power in Ferelden and I don’t need the Wardens. They are an outdated bunch.”

 _Outdated!_ Solona was on her feet, teacup crashing to the floor. “I don’t know what you think you know, but your negativity towards the Grey Wardens has to end! There are at least two Old Gods left and the darkspawn will never stop searching for them. They will find them, and a Blight will happen again. I don’t know if it will be in five years or in five hundred, but it will happen. When it does, you will be glad to have the only people in the world who can stop it at your back. We make mistakes, we’re fallible, but we will continue to fight darkspawn with or without your help while you sit here and trade favors with nobles."

She was out of breath by the end out it. She panted, glaring at the Inquisitor, the man who had sent her husband to his death. _I guess this is one of my angry days._

The Inquisitor stared at her as if judging her value at market. Solona started mentally packing her bags.

“Fine, you can stay.” Before Solona even had a chance to smile, he continued. “But there are conditions.

“First, while you are here, you are under my command. No if, ands, or buts. I lead, not you. Second, you will have a bunk and a payroll like anyone else. We will do this the right way. Third, you will go on any mission I see fit to send you on. If I want you to spend three months on the Storm Coast picking Deep Mushrooms, you’ll go. If I want you to train templars on the best way to kill mages, you’ll do it. As long you stay here, you will do what I want.”

 _He was serious._ Solona slowly sat down, reaching for the chipped cup. She placed it in her lap, tracing the sharp edge.

“And I may leave whenever I want?”

“Of course. But once you leave, I will treat you the same I would any other Grey Warden. You will not be allowed in Orlais, and you will not be able to step foot into Skyhold ever again.”

Solona considered her options, few as they were. “Agreed.”

Maxwell stood, towering above her. “I look forward to working with you, Hero of Ferelden.” He kissed Josephine on the cheek, eyes softening as he pulled back to look at her. She smiled at him, kissing the palm of his hand. 

Feeling nauseous, Solona fled the suddenly warm room. Intent on getting away, she didn’t see Cullen until she had almost run head-long into him. 

“Oh. Hello Cullen.” Solona tried to make the greeting sound casual, as if she hadn’t thought he was her dead husband two weeks ago. 

“Solona,” Cullen nodded in greeting. “So are you now a member of the Inquisition?”

She played with her fingers. “That’s right.”

Cullen sighed, and she peeked up at him. The templar was smiling cautiously. “I’m glad to hear that. I was worried the Inquisitor might… might send you away.”

Solona wasn’t sure what to make of that. “You were worried for me?”

“Ah. Yes. I was.” Cullen had his hand on his neck again. 

Her smile caused him to relax. “Thank you Cullen. It means so much to have a friend like you here.”

Cullen flushed slightly and he placed his fist over his heart. “If you ever need anything, simply ask.”

The formal gesture had her shifting her weight uneasily. “Of course. Now if you don’t mind, I have… things.”

“Of course not.”

Before she could ruin this tenuous friendship again, Solona went to climb to the raven’s keep to tell Leliana about her new job. As she took the steps one at a time, a thought shifted through her mind. She might have overemphasized the importance of the Wardens to the Inquisitor. If the Architect was successful… 

She shook her head. No, the Grey Wardens were still important to the future of Thedas. She hadn’t lied about that


	6. Relapse

True to his word, the Inquisitor made use of her. Leliana quietly cursed him, but Solona was glad for the distraction. The Alistair pangs were at a high. She would see a solid figure and start to move towards it, only to realize that they had horns. Or she would hear a laugh, and feel her own start to blossom. It was chipping away at her sanity.

She had stopped eating cheese altogether. 

The trip to the Deep Roads was long, memories of the Blight and her companions in Amaranthine filling her mind. The soldiers the Inquisition provided were good, but they didn’t make her laugh like Anders or Zevran did or help her remember reality like Nathanial, Sigrud, or Leliana did. She chatted with the men and women, learning their names and lives. Some had come to the Inquisition as pilgrims back when it was still in Haven. Others had trickled in as Trevelyan had fought Corypheus. Some were there in order to protect the people while others were there in order to be a part of something great. 

Solona learned the names and when darkspawn got past her Tempests, knew which people to report dead. 

She spent six exhausting weeks in the Deep Roads, clearing out any darkspawn she and the soldiers could find. The constant need to be on the lookout and lack of firewood meant that they spent most of their time tired and hungry. On the final day, when they saw the sky for the first time in over a month, she heard one of the soldiers, a Free Marcher named John comment, “And this is why I don’t want to become a Grey Warden. They live for the Deep Roads, you know.”

Skyhold’s walls were a welcome sight as Solona rode up the path. Passing through the gate, she swung off her horse, sore from a long ride. She rested her head on the saddle, fingers tangled in the horse’s mane. _Alistair, send me some of your strength. I don’t know if I can do this._

It was a familiar plea. She had started saying it sometime during the second week at the Deep Roads. She felt blasphemous, praying to her dead husband instead of the Maker or his bride, but for some reason, the thought of Alistair comforted her more than an unseen god and his prophet. 

“Solona, are you alright?”

Her irritation flashed at the owner of the voice and she bit her lip to keep herself from saying something she’d regret. 

“I am fine, Cullen.”

She felt him move closer. “Do you need someone to stable your horse for you?”

“I can handle it,” she hissed and immediately bit her tongue. “I’m sorry,” she said in a softer tone. “The Deep Roads are… never pleasant.” 

“I wouldn’t imagine so,” Cullen agreed. 

Silent seconds slide by as Solona tried to figure out her next move. 

“You should know, Leliana is out in the field. She won’t be back for at least another week. And the Inquisitor and Lady Montilyet are visiting Antiva.”

She would miss Leliana and Jose but at least she wouldn’t have to deal with Maxwell for a while. That was something. 

“How has everything been here?” The words floated from her mouth.

“Good. Quiet, which is good.”

“Good,” Solona agreed. 

Finally she sighed, _can’t stay here all night_. She turned, intending to take her horse to the sable when Cullen’s gaze stopped her. His solid brown eyes pressed against her body, taking in every inch. Solona ran a hand through her hair. She was a disaster, barely able to remember the last time she had be able to wash her face and hands. She had given up on her hair over three weeks ago, it was currently in a nest of a bun. _Not to mention my clothing is a bit looser._

Cullen’s brows furrowed and he called for soldier to come take this horse.

Solona was about to try out her catch-phrase when Cullen reached out and grabbed her hand. “Come on,” he murmured, pulling her away from her soldiers. Solona tried to speak again, but Cullen interrupted her. “Don’t even think about saying you’re fine. I could easily believe you were dancing in the Black City for a month with the way you look.” 

“Don’t you know you are never supposed to tell a woman when she looks bad,” Solona said, then wondered where the words came from. _It must be an uncaring day._

Cullen flushed but kept moving. “I might have heard that somewhere.”

They climbed the steps to the battlements, slowly as Solona struggled with weariness. The worried look in Cullen’s eyes grew as he watched her put one foot carefully in front of the other before shifting her balance. 

“Maker preserve me,” he said finally, swooping her into his arms to carry her up the final set of stairs. Solona almost told him swooping was bad but the words choked in her throat and she leaned against his metal chest plate, too tired to even to cry. 

His office was as she remembered, organized and neat. As carefully as he could, he put her onto her feet. Solona tried to stand, but long hours in the saddle had stripped all energy from her legs and she hit the ground with a groan. Cullen swore softly, stripping off his lion tunic to cushion it underneath her. He maneuvered her so that her back rested against the desk and knelt down in front of her.

“I’ll be right back. Just… try not to hurt yourself.”

Solona wasn’t quite sure about her ability to move in general so she nodded sleepily. Cullen left out one of the side doors and she was in his office by himself. With nothing else to do, she closed her eyes, putting her weight against the desk. 

A door clattered and Solona struggled with her eyelids. By the time she had gotten them open, Cullen kneeling in front of her, a bowl of steaming soup in hand. “Here,” he murmured, holding it out to her. Solone willed her arms to move and slowly, they lifted off the ground to take the bowl. She had it less than three seconds before she almost dropped it, spilling soup on her leg. Cullen grabbed the bowl as she hissed. _That was hot!_

She looked back up to see Cullen’s worried face back on. He glanced at the bowl of soup and switched it into his other hand. He then picked up the spoon, carefully scooped up some liquid, and blew gently on it. He held it out to her and Solona blinked. He intended to feed her… like a child or an invalid. She squirmed and Cullen lowered the spoon.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t need your help,” Solona whispered. Cullen sighed, dropping the spoon back into the bowl. 

“Solona…”

“You have other things to do than to take care of a helpless mage,” she said it quickly, looking at her knees. 

“Solona,” Cullen’s voice was gentle but his fingers were firm as they pushed her chin up so she had to look at him. “You have never been helpless and right now, you are my priority. I will stay up all night if I have to, which would be a pity since I have a long day tomorrow.”

She glared at him, knowing he knew her weaknesses. “Fine,” she whispered. Cullen smiled and spooned her some soup. She took it without complaint and swallowed, the first hot food in over a month starting its journey through her system.

Cullen took his time feeding her, breaking off bread, giving her sips of water, and spoonfuls of soup. At one point he offered her a bite of cheese but she shook her head. He looked at the white cheese and then back up at her. She pleaded with her eyes for him not to ask and without a word, he put the cheese back on plate.

They were part way through the meal when a group of soldiers burst through the front door, carrying a tub. Solona blinked, swallowing some soft bread. Was Cullen going to take a bath this late?

As she ate, more soldiers started filtering into the room, each carrying a bucket or two of steaming water. By the time she was finished, the bath tub was full. Cullen stood, stretching and thanked two of the remaining men. They responded and left. Only a female soldier remained, standing at attention. 

Solona could feel strength returning to her limbs, but she didn’t move. Her backside was beginning to ache despite the cushion but getting up sounded like too much work. 

“Are you ready for a bath?” Cullen asked. Solona looked up at him. Oh… he was talking to her. 

“You want me to take a bath?” She asked. 

Cullen shook his head. “No, but I know you want one so I’ve prepared a tub for you. No one should be coming in here this late so you’ll have some peace and quiet. Becket here will help you with any washing that needs to be done, if you’re not feeling up to it.” The Commander nodded at the female soldier who saluted and then proceeded to start setting up something in front of the tub. Solona watched as she constructed a screen of sorts so that it was impossible to see the tub occupant. 

“Commander, if you wouldn’t mind exiting your office for a few minutes, I’ll prepare the Hero and get her into the tub before I come for you.” Cullen nodded and with one last look at Solona, left the room.

Once her commanding officer was gone, Becket relaxed slightly. “Now, Hero, it’s an honor to be helping you today. Let’s get you out of those… clothes and into the water.”

“Uh-huh,” Solona said, uncommitted. Becket didn’t need her permission however, picking her up off the floor and shedding her clothing as easily as a farm girl husking corn. With little ceremony, she dumped Solona into the tub. 

As the steaming water hit her back, Solona yelped. _So hot!_ But after about ten scorching seconds, the water because comfortable and soothing. She moaned softly, sinking down into the liquid. Becket pulled the make-shift screen around the tub and went to get the Commander. Solona heard him enter and ducked lower in the water. Screen or not, it’s still awkward to be naked in the same room as a man. 

“Do you need anything, Hero?” Becket asked, heading popping out from around the screen. 

Solona stretched her limbs. The hot water felt wonderful, Cullen had known what he was doing when he ordered one of these. “I am good, thanks.” The female soldier nodded, turned smartly and left, door clicking behind her.

For a time, Solona simply soaked, enjoying the warmth. From the fluttering of papers, it sounded like Cullen was going through reports. She made a wave in the water with her hand, watching it go over the edge of the tub.

“Do you ever stop working?” She asked, wiggling her toes. 

“Only when I sleep,” Cullen said, more papers rustling.

She considered that, gently trying to disentangle her hair. Something that he did all the time, forcing unwanted thoughts to remain in the background. She had yet to find that kind of job. 

Sliding down the tub’s side, she rested with her mouth below the water’s surface, the liquid heat turning her muscles to jelly. Perhaps this was what it was like at the Maker’s side. Peaceful. Solona watched her fingers through the clear water for a moment and taking a deep breath through her nose, dunked beneath the surface. 

The water scorched her face for an instant, shocking her. She released some air bubbles but hurriedly managed to keep the rest locked inside. Memories of her time as a Warden-Commander- _running across a beach with Alistair, laughing as he taught her how to swim, lying in some field in Amaranthine just because they could_ \- filled her mind and she brought her hands out of the water to grip the edge of the tub. 

Her chest just hurt so much. Sometimes she was able to ignore the pain but it was always there, ready to stab her anew. She wanted it to be over, to see the face she knew better than her own smiling once more.

Lungs beginning to burn, she moved her head, feeling the soft rolls of hair move across the water. The additional pain helped her to focus. _What was she going to do? Live without Alistair?_ Invisible knives pierced her and she whimpered, sound muted in the water. Leliana wanted her to live, believed that she could, but did Solona believe that? Would she allow herself to believe that?

Her head swam even as her lungs felt like they were shriveling inside her. This was the time. She had to decide. _Live or die._ Continue on or hope that the Chantry was right and she would join her love at the Maker’s side. 

A buzzing sensation started in her fingers, traveling down her arm. Decide, Solona! Her self-imposed time-limit was running out. 

Solona thought one last time about Alistair and made her decision. 

Rough hands yanked her from revelry, pulling her out of the water and slamming her onto the hard floor. She coughed even as a force beat down on her chest. She cried out, magic forming on her fingertips as she raised her arms to defend herself. 

Then her magic was gone like it had never been. Solona opened her eyes, seeing a blond head with unreadable brown eyes above her. _Was she dead?_ No, it was just Cullen. She shut her eyes, the tiredness of six weeks in the Deep Roads and the status of widowhood hitting her once again. 

“Solona.” Her name spoken calmly. She peeked open. Cullen’s face was now red, his teeth bared at her. “What was that?” These words came out short and crisp. The apathy of exhaustion washed away any concern she might have felt at the emotions playing on the templar’s face. 

“It was nothing. I’m fine.”

“You…” He gripped her shoulders and suddenly she was sitting up and he was shaking her. “What do you think you were doing? Were you just going to die there? Slip away like there weren’t people who cared about you still in this world? Well, you’re not allowed to do that, Solona! Not on my watch.”

The templar looked like he was going to lose it. Solona felt like she should have been scared of the mage-hunter but the emotion just wouldn’t come.

“Cullen, it is honestly none of your business what I decide to do with my life.”

Some of the rage fell from the templar then as he stared into her eyes. “None of my… Solona…” He blinked several times. “Leliana told me to keep an eye on you. Do you know how she would react if she came back to find that you had killed yourself? Did you even think of how much pain you would cause her? How about the rest of your friends? Would you have just left them? I…” He cut off, glancing at something to the side of her head. “I care about you too, Solona. I… I don’t want to see you die.”

Faint emotions tapped at the wall of apathy, asking to come through. “Cullen… I….” What could she say? She shut her mouth, words dying. Cullen peeked at her and then, ever so carefully, pulled her to him, holding her close. For once, Solona didn’t think of Alistair. She was just too tired. 

A knock on the door jolted them and Cullen pulled back. Whatever he intended to say vanished as he looked at her and then looked away, face transitioning through variations of crimson. Solona wondered what was bothering him so when she realized that she didn’t have anything on. _Oh._

Cullen moved quickly, pulling off his shirt, damp from her body, and handed it to her. He barely glanced in her direction. Solona carefully slipped it on, the moisture on her skin making it more difficult than it should have been. His shirt bunched on the floor but it covered everything. She looked up at Cullen, eyes momentarily lost in the labyrinth of scars on his bare chest. Forcing her eyes to make the leap upwards, she studied the vivid colors on his cheeks. 

The person outside knocked again and Cullen cursed, getting to his feet, still unable to look in her direction. He walked around the curtain and opened the door, talking to the person outside. Solona curled her legs underneath her and set her hands in her lap. _This day needs to be over._


	7. Resolutions

She had a bodyguard again, of course. He was unfamiliar, keeping a wary eye on her as she peeked out around Leliana’s door at him. She couldn’t blame Cullen for giving her another one, but the knowledge that someone would be following her around once more irked her. The anger was unfamiliar; it had been a while since she had the energy for a mad day. 

_Maybe there was another avalanche._ It was probably too much to ask.

She pulled her surprisingly clean hair into a ponytail and ransacking Leliana’s drawers, found a leather armor set that might just fit. The pants were a bit tight and the top was a bit loose, but they both would stay on and that was what counted. 

Leaving Leliana’s room, she walked down to the sparing area, looking for a familiar face. She spotted one of the soldiers who had been in the Deep Roads party and went to join him on the fence, watching the fighters. Some were in full armor, practicing in earnest, while others wore everyday clothes, just getting some exercise. 

Her companion and her talked for a time, comparing notes on everything that they had missed about Skyhold. He was kind enough not to mention the bodyguard lurking a length away and she didn’t ask about the tired lines embedded into his face. The Deep Roads were difficult. She had been lucky her first time since she was able to spend every night curled up next to her own armored man but… 

The ground blurred beneath her and then her skin itched as the emotion transformed into something else. 

“Do you want to fight?” She asked John. The soldier’s eyes widened. “No, Hero Amell. I’m sorry.”

Magic churned beneath her flesh, making her want to strike something. She didn’t blame him. But she did need to find someone to fight. Glancing around she spotted a likely candidate, a templar still dressed in the armor of his order. She strode over to him, smiling. 

“Hello, I am Solona Amell, ex-Warden-Commander and Hero of Ferelden. Would you fight me?”

The templar blinked, looking her up and down. He smiled but it didn’t get close to reaching his eyes. “The mage who thinks she is above it all. I would love to.” _Perfect._

As they approached the sparing area, other fighters glanced at them then stepped away. An increasing space was cleared for them and they paused in the center of it.

“So how would you like to do this? Mage against templar or weapons or…”

Solona shook her head once. “Nope. No magic, no weapons. Just you as you are against me as I am.”

The templar grinned. “Sounds fine to me.”

“Messere, I don’t think this is a good idea,” John said, coming from the side. 

“Don’t worry,” Solona said, stretching. “I know what I’m doing.” John eyed her skeptically but backed down a safe distance away. Solona looked up at the templar who was a head taller than her and at least twice her weight. “Whenever you are ready.”

Pain flashed across her nerves as the templar punched her chest, moving faster than a man his size should have been able to. Her feet left the ground and she slammed into the border fence. She coughed and stood, daring the templar for more. 

He provided it. 

Fists rained down on her. She tried to block what she could but combat training had never been her specialty. At some point early on, John ran off but Solona couldn’t tell where as she rolled on the ground, trying to avoid the templar’s solid kicks. She wasn’t fast enough though, his boot connecting with her side with a crack. 

Pain momentarily stunned her but she didn’t have time for that. Pushing it aside, she lashed out at the templar, managing to trip him. She rolled to her feet, hand tracing her injured side. _Two ribs broken, one cracked._

The templar was laughing as he pushed himself up, “I take back everything I ever said about mages. You got one blow in.” 

Solona’s temper charred her inner skin at his sarcasm but she forced herself not to react. His words were calculated. 

“I do wonder how you managed to kill an archdemon. Did it just roll over when you told him about how hard life as a mage was for you?” He took a step towards her and she moved with him, not letting herself be fazed. 

“I heard your husband was templar trained. To think one of our own would take a mage for a wife. It seems impossible. There is only one understandable reason it had happened.” Solona froze. _Was he accusing her of…_

“You used blood magic to seep thoughts into his mind, making him think he cared about you. You made him your pet. It sickens me that we let you prance around, mourning the loss of your thrall. But I suppose for a templar to fall that far, he must have been a weakling to begin with.”

Lightning shot across the distance between them, slamming into his chest. The large man went flying, breaking the fence surrounding the arena. 

Solona stalked forward, sparks dancing.

“Don’t you talk about him like that.” her words were soft but they carried. “Don’t you ever talk about Alistair like he was anything other than a hero.”

The templar started to stand and she threw another bolt, tossing him into the nearby stone wall. The bystanders fled the scene as lightning crackled across the ground near her. 

Her opponent managed to stay on his feet, but before he could smite her, she smashed him into the dirt. Twisting her hand, she called forth a fireball and chucked it at the ground in front of him. With a wave, it formed an arch around him, leaving him no room to escape. 

Shaking slightly, the templar slowly straightened. “Now, here I thought we were going to have a fair fight. That’s what I get for trusting the word of a mage.” 

Solona snarled at him, lightning forming in her hands and then she collapsed to her knees, magic gone. _She had gotten too cocky._ The magical flames died out and the templar came forward. “You mages are all alike,” he said and pulled his foot back.

She didn’t see the blow but as she stared up at the sky from her position on her back, blood sliding down the side of her face, she felt it. Footsteps approached and she knew he was going to kick her again, doing some serious damage this time. She had gotten him mad. 

_Good._

“What is going on here?” Solona groaned and closed her eyes. Cullen was always ruining her fun.

“Commander,” the temple said, not a hint of disrespect in his voice. “Just a friendly sparring match.”

“From the last few seconds of it, I wouldn’t call it _friendly_ , Knight-Lieutenant.”

“It’s fine, Cullen,” Solona said, pushing herself up to a sitting position, only to sway dangerously. She closed her eyes, focusing on containing the pain. “I started it. The Lieutenant was just finishing it.”

There was silence. “…Solona?” She opened her eyes, the light was too bright. Cullen didn’t seem to recognize her. “That’s my name. Would you mind helping me up?”

The templar she had been fighting seemed a bit startled that she would ask, but pulled her to her feet. _Maybe she should have sat a while longer._ The ground moved dangerously and she clung to the templar’s arm for balance. 

“I see the situation is more complicated than I initially thought. Lieutenant, we will be talking about this later. Let’s go, Solona.”

Solona eyed the space separating her from the Commander. _That wasn’t going to happen._ He sighed and took several steps forward, holding out his arm. Bracing herself, Solona pushed off the templar Lieutenant’s arm, launching through the air towards Cullen. The kick must have been harder than she thought because she missed completely, earth rushing up towards her. A solid arm curled around her waist and she found herself dangling from it like a worm on a hook. 

“Are you going to tell me you are fine?” Cullen asked.

Solona reached out to touch the ground but somehow missed that as well. “I thought about it but since you’ve already said it I don’t need to.”

Cullen sighed again and she was flying through the air once more, this time ending up pressed against the Commander’s chest. He was squeezing her ribs. “We should go find you a healer.”

The healer was impressed that Solona was still sort of standing. Leliana, when she got back the next day, was less impressed. She would have scolded Cullen for not doing a better job of watching her but Solona told her that the Commander had done his best. It was her own fault for deciding a templar seemed like a good sparring partner. 

Later that day Solona stood outside Cullen’s office, warring with guilt. She just had to keep apologizing to him. He had to be sick of her by now, but he was a good man and annoyance wouldn’t stop him from doing what was right.

She knocked on the door and at his response entered. Cullen was sitting on his desk, polishing his armor. Solona blinked. It said a lot that the Commander of the Inquisition just didn’t get someone to take care of his armor for him. She shook her head at herself. Now she just felt worse for not being able to do anything to help him all those years ago at the tower. 

“If you need to fight, please just ask me and I will find someone who won’t nearly crack your skull open.” The reprimand was gentle but she winced, ashamed.

“You didn’t punish him, did you?”

Cullen moved the cloth over the metal. “I did. Knight-Lieutenant Fraiser should have known better. Since he was fighting someone important, he should have been extra careful.”

“But I started the fight,” Solona said, watching him clean. _It’s like a dance._

“What you did or didn’t do doesn’t affect how he responded to it. That is what is important here. Now, you didn’t come here to simply ask about the man who beat you up. What’s on your mind?”

 _Why did he have to be so intuitive?_ Solona shuffled. She had done this enough, it should be easier. _Anytime now…_ She played with her hands, keeping her eyes on the tracing of armor with fabric. 

“I’m sorry for needing you to constantly pull me out of bad situations,” She blurted. Cullen paused his ministrations, looked up at her face. “I am grateful that you do, but I’m sorry that you have to. I just wanted you to know that I am going to try to be better.” 

Her hands fluttered, wanting something to do and she moved them to her sides, gripping the folds of her robe. He deserved honesty. Her skin burned and she wanted nothing more than to flee, but she had to say this. Cullen had to hear it. 

“When you found me in… the tub, I was forcing myself to make a decision. I was avoiding it for so long, going back and forth. I knew that I had to make it though.”

Cullen’s brown eyes were gentle and he looked as if he wanted to say something to comfort her, but he didn’t, which she was endlessly grateful for. 

“I would either pull myself out of the water and live or keep myself under and die. Those were my choices. There were no alternatives, no half measures. Life or death.” 

Across from her the Commander seemed to slouch. “So you chose death,” His words were almost as soft as hers had been.

Solona sighed. “No. I chose life.”


	8. Achieving an Understanding

With Leliana back, Solona once again had company at night, which helped. She was studiously avoiding her bunk that supposedly existed in the mage quarters of the compound. All went back to as it was before the Deep Roads, just with even more vigilant bodyguard. Solona had yet to tell Leliana that it wasn’t actually suicide attempt. What would be the point? It was close enough and Leliana seemed to be more at ease knowing that someone was always watching out for her. 

A messenger came, telling them that the Inquisitor and Lady Montilyet would be back in eight days. Solona knew that the Trevelyan probably had some new mission cooked up so she decided to try to enjoy the time she had. She helped the stablemaster groom the horses, lost at chess to anyone who would play with her, and helped teach the mage apprentices, soothing some of her mothering desires. She wasn’t sleeping well, but her days kept her busy so she was content enough. 

Three days before the Inquisitor was due to arrive, a guest came to Skyhold. 

Solona was attempting to embroider on the steps to the main hall when she happened to glance up and spot him. Long blond hair, golden eyes, a smile that creased the tattoo on the side of his face. Solona was running before she could even fully process what she was seeing. She tripped a couple of times, barely focused on where she placed her feet. 

The elf was laughing when she slammed into him, arms already tightening into a hug. 

“Zevran,” she breathed.

The assassin gave her a long tight hug back, before pulling away. “Be careful my lovely Warden. With greetings like that, you might give the wrong impression.”

Solona laughed, hand resting on his shoulder. It was hard to believe he was really here. “It is good to see you, Zevran. I’ve missed you.”

Zevran grinned mischievously. “Now you have given me the wrong impression.” He leaned forward and gave her series of chaste kisses around her face. Solona laughed as he got her nose, eyes shining. “You don’t change do you?”

“Neither do you, my friend. Look at your robe. I thought I had taught you some sense of balance but I see you lost that over the years.” Solona blushed as she saw the mud smeared across her clothing from her tumbles. 

“Now, I haven’t heard any righteous bellowing yet. Where is my least favorite Warden?”

Solona’s smile died and her lip trembled before she forced it still. She would not cry in front of Zevran. “He...died.” 

The elf didn’t respond, simply enwrapping her in a gentle hug. After a moment, he shifted and wiped the moisture from her cheeks. 

“Do I need to kill anyone?”

If anyone else had asked that question, Solona would have thought they were joking.

“No.” A small selfish part of her wanted to say yes but she knew better than to listen to it. 

Zevran kissed her forehead, holding her hand tight. They went back to Skyhold in silence. 

Leliana was waiting for them, dressed in full Nightingale regalia. 

“Zev, I trust you are not here professionally.”

“You wound me, beautiful Leliana. I am always professional. Look, I come bearing a gift. A stray Grey Warden I found talking to strange elves outside of the walls.”

Leliana didn’t smile as she waited. 

“No, lovely Nightingale. I don’t have a job here. Though if I slay some hearts while I am around, it will just be a bonus.”

“Welcome to Skyhold then.”

Dropping Solona’s hand, Zevran went up to the spymaster, pulling something out of his pocket. It was a faded playing card. He bowed and offered it to Leliana who hesitantly took it with a shy smile. There was a series of movements then that Solona couldn’t follow, the rogues’ hands moving over each other purposefully. Leliana twirled, card fluttering in her hand. “I win this round, Zev.”

The assassin grinned. “If I were to lose, I am glad it was you who ended up on top.” Leliana came back up next to him and traced his tattoo. 

“Three years Zev.”

He kissed her fingers. “I know.”

Solona left them like that, gut twisting. She was happy for them but it was hard watching another couple and remembering what she had lost. 

On her way up the stairs to Leliana’s chamber, she came across into Cullen. His eyebrows knit together as he watched at the spymaster and the strange elf share an intimate moment, then he glanced to the side, cheeks changing color. 

He caught her gaze. “Should I know who that is?”

“That is Zevran. He’s the Antivan Crow who helped us end the Blight.”

“An Antivan Crow? He must have been the one we dealt with earlier.” Cullen looked back at the couple, the Commander lurking just below the surface. 

Solona touched his arm to draw his attention away. His brown eyes flickered to her. “Zevran is harmless. Well, not _harmless_ , he is an assassin. But he would never hurt something important to Leliana so you have nothing to fear from him.”

“You trust him that much?”

 _Of course._ She shrugged. “He is my friend.” 

A thought waved behind Cullen’s eyes and he smiled slowly at her. “Then I will try not to dwell on the fact that we have an assassin in our walls.”

Solona grinned her thanks and went to retrieve her few belongings from Leliana’s room. It was time to find that bunk.

oOo

Two days later she was coming back from talking with Dagna when she spotted Cullen coming towards her, one arm behind his back. 

“Solona, may I talk to you for a moment?”

Confused at him asking, Solona allowed herself to be led to the circle gallery near the main hall. “Are you alright?”

“What? Oh, of course. This isn’t anything bad. Or, at least I don’t think it is.” He laughed a little, already changing colors. Solona studied him. The ever-present bags under his eyes were fainter today and he was freshly shaven. He looked well enough.

They settled against a table and Cullen shifted his weight to his other foot, looking around the room. “First off, I wanted to thank you for all the letters you sent me over the years.”

Solona blinked. “You got those?”

“Yes. I didn’t get many letters in Kirkwall, yours were always a pleasant surprise.”

“Oh.” Now Solona was embarrassed. She had sent him a couple of letters in the last ten years but he never replied. She had assumed that meant that they hadn’t gotten to him. They had been small things, her talking about what she was doing and asking if he was alright. She had been worried when he had left the Ferelden Circle so suddenly. After everything that had happened, she didn’t want him to be alone.

Her awkwardness turned Cullen redder. “And…well… I have a present for you.”

“A present?”

“Yes.” He shoved an object into her hands. She looked down. A book. She slowly opened the cover. _Common Flora of Ferelden_. “I remember you always reading back in the Circle, but I haven’t seen you do much of that while you’ve been here. I thought maybe if you had your own book…” He trailed off as tears started to fall from her eyes. “Maker’s breath, forgive me. I thought it was a good idea, but…”

Solona shook her head, trying to keep control over herself. “No… it was a thoughtful present… Thank you…” She choked on a sob and covering her mouth, ran from the room. Cullen was left by himself, book abandoned on the table.

Ignoring the stares of the people who never seemed to leave the main hall, Solona ran to a side door, past Jose’s office, and into the War Room. With the Inquisitor absent, it was empty. She shut the large wooden door and slid down the wall to the floor, crying in earnest. When she had spent all her tears, she closed her eyes, resting her head on her knees. 

Someone knocked softly on the other side of the War Room door. 

“Solona?”

It was Cullen.

“Yes?”

“May I come in?”

Solona sighed, pushing her knees into her eye sockets to dull the pain. “If you want to.”

The door creaked and footsteps approached her. They moved, unsure and then with a heave and the clatter of plate, Cullen sat down next to her. He didn’t say anything for a long time, allowing her to wallow in her pain.

“Could you tell me what I did wrong? The last thing I want to do is hurt you, Solona.” 

The quiet pain in his voice caused the guilt to course through her again. She should have realized bursting into tears at a present would harm this gentle man. But at the same time, could she talk about it?

“It’s just that… Alistair was always giving me books,” Solona said, words coming easier than she had thought. Encouraged, she continued. “We couldn’t have much since we were often on the road with no place to call home, but he would be constantly finding some book he thought I would like. He… wanted to make sure that even though I didn’t have a bookshelf, I would never run out of words to read.” Her chest ached at the memories. _Oh Alistair, I miss you so much._

Cullen didn’t speak, as if weighing his words. “So that’s why you don’t read anymore. It reminds you of him.”

Solona nodded, even though he probably wouldn’t be able to tell since her face was still buried in her knees. 

“I’m sorry,” Cullen said, painful sincerity in every syllable. 

“You didn’t know,” Solona murmured. 

They sat in silence for a long time until a ruckus announced that the Inquisitor had gotten back a day early.


	9. Moving On

Servants scurried about, trying to prepare everything before the Inquisitor saw it. He was very particular about how he wanted things. 

Solona considered hiding but as she exited the hall that led to the War Room, the dark-haired noble spotted her. 

“Hero Amell, I was just going to summon you. Commander, it’s good to see you. Will you prepare the officers to be reviewed? I have a lot to catch up on.”

The Inquisitor may make her uncomfortable, but Solona had to admit he was organized. He ran the Inquisition like Varric took care of Bianca, tending every detail so that when the time came to fight, they would be ready. 

“Sister Leliana informs me that on your travels during the Blight, you helped Redcliffe out to the point where you acquired the title Hero of Redcliffe. We are going to make use of those connections to forge a stronger trade agreement with them. Our Lady Ambassador has written a letter to the Arl, which you will deliver.”

“Ser,” Solona said, a sense of panic beginning in her gut. “Redcliffe was Alistair’s home. Arl Teagen was his uncle.”

The Inquisitor smiled. “That is good news. It would be hard for the Arl to deny a niece.” Solona couldn’t force any words out of her mouth. _To face Alistair’s relatives…_

Cullen spoke up for the first time. “What I believe the Hero is getting at is Redcliffe will remind her a great deal of her dead husband. It would be painful for her to go back.”

Maxwell Trevelyan seemed surprised to see Cullen was still there. His next words were less commanding and Solona could see the human leaking out from behind the powerful face of Inquisition. “I am sorry that I must ask this of you, Hero Amell. With Corypheus dead, nobles are less supporting than they were. To maintain our standards, we need trade agreements like this to be successful. When you joined, I told you I would ask a lot of you. It is unfortunate, but the Inquisition must survive. I will send one of Josephine’s people with you so all you will need to do is show that you are connected to us.”

“Does…Teagan know about…” Solona couldn’t get herself to say it. 

“As far as I am aware, no. But is probably better that he hears it from you than from some nameless messenger.”

Solona nodded and with a graceless curtsey, walked away. Cullen came with her, silent presence reassuring. 

“Can I do this, Cullen?” Solona voiced her fears, needing someone to say it. 

The templar was infallible. “Yes. It will be hard, but you can handle it.”

Solona nodded and took a breath. _Time to gather her things._

oOo

Redcliffe was painful as expected, but Cullen was right as usual. She survived. Seeing Teagen’s face fall when he heard the fate of his nephew had caused her inhibitions to disappear and she had hugged the arl in the middle of his receiving room. To her surprise, he had hugged her back. 

One thing she did not predict was seeing Connor. The ten years had changed him from a small boy into a man. A man who believe his abilities were a curse. She understood why he thought that way, but it hurt to see someone so young with that much guilt and know that she could do nothing. Solona had hugged him as well, telling him that if he ever needed something, anything, he could always ask her. They were cousins in a way. Connor was hesitant but he smiled just a bit, saying that he might just do that. 

The ambassador Solona had traveled with, a young woman who was from a small noble family in Starkhaven and had always dreamed about being involved in politics, was thrilled with their stay in Redcliffe. Arl Teagen didn’t take much convincing to accept the terms and the moment he did, the ambassador did a little dance. 

Within a month, Solona was walking across the path into the familiar walls of Skyhold. _It was good to be back._ She stood by as the ambassador reported on their results. After that was finished, the Inquisitor waved her off, saying he would have something else for her in a week or two. Solona smiled and saying something politely formal, left. Leliana had been right. He was a good man. Undoubtedly there was something he could send her to do immediately but instead he was giving her time recover. 

To Solona’s surprise, she was doing well. She had cried repeatedly at Redcliffe, memories of previous happier times everywhere she looked. But it didn’t seem to faze her overall mood. She smiled, waving at Cullen as he drilled some young-looking soldiers. He smiled back at her, barely pausing in-between orders. 

That evening, Leilana and Zevran convinced her to join a game of Wicked Grace that gradually grew so a number of the few remaining core members of the Inquisition were playing. Solona lost all the money she brought, but enjoyed watching the tricks of the rogues and the determination of Josephine. When she went to bed in the mage quarters that night, it was with a smile on her face. 

She dreamed of Alistair.

It started simple enough. She lay in his arms by a river, enjoying the feel of his warm body next to hers. He nuzzled her neck. 

“So dear lady, what is the plan for today?”

Solona smiled, turning slightly to rub her cheek against his. “I am pretty sure it is your turn to decide.”

“No, it was mine when we went to Weisshaupt.”

“And it was mine when we came to Orlais for the festival. That makes it yours.”

Alistair laughed, pulling her in for a kiss that deepened in to something more. “I know what we can do,” he said, voice low against her lips. 

Solona grinned and pushed him away, climbing to her feet. “We’ll see about that.” She burst into a run and seconds later Alistair was after her. Solona laughed and glanced back to check on him. Her foot caught on something and as she struggled to regain her balance, he caught her, spinning her around before planting another kiss. Solona wrapped her arms around him, heart racing with the thrill of the run. 

Alistair chuckled, resting his forehead against hers. “How is it that after all this time I still feel like my head is going to burst when I am around you?”

Solona moved her hands around his back, across his shoulders, and down the front chest plate before she began plucking at buckles she had long since found the location of.

“I love you, Solona.” She looked up to smile at him. “Why weren’t you there to keep me safe?”

Her muscles turned to ice, all happiness freezing along with it. “Alistair, I…”

“You left me and I died. How could you do that?”

_No…_

“It was so painful dying. Did you know that? They make it sound peaceful but in reality, it’s horrible.”

_Nononono…_

Solona tried to get away but strong arms were locked around her waist, keeping her pinned to his chest. 

“I miss you, Solona. I love you so much. Why did you leave?”

“Alistair,” Solona said, tears flowing. The arms pulled tighter and the pain grew. “You’re hurting me.”

“Don’t you want to join me? I thought you cared about me,” Alistair said, brown eyes full of pain. 

Her internal organs were going to burst. Alistair squeezed and things cracked.

“I’m so sorry, Alistair,” Solona cried. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“Yet it did and I died. Whose fault do you think that is?”

_It is mine, Alistair. Mine._

More things cracked and suddenly Solona screamed, shooting up in her bed. She could scarcely hear anything over the booms of her heart but a voice slipped through. 

“Go back to sleep.”

Solona covered her mouth, trembling. A dream. It was only dream. Alistair was dead and… it wasn’t her fault. There was nothing she could have done. 

Her words did little to help the guilt that had been placed there. Something else to put on the list of things she felt needlessly guilty about.

Grabbing an open-cut robe from the end of her bed, Solona got up and crept out of the mage quarters. She wasn’t sleepy anymore and even if she was, she didn’t want to dream again tonight. Her feet brought her to the battlements where a cold wind blew back her loose hair and robe. She looked out at the stairs, shining bright. No matter what happened in the world below, at least some things were constant. 

As she began to pick out constellations, real and made-up, something caught her eye. A light was coming from Cullen’s office. Without telling them to, her feet made their way over to it. Her hands were rebellious also, raising to knock quietly on the wooden door. Cullen invited her in and she opened the door. 

Cullen was sitting at his desk, stacks of paper spread out in front of him. When he saw her, he stood. “Solona, is everything alright?”

Shutting the door behind her, Solona wrapped her arms around herself, trying to get rid of the goosebumps. Her customary response paused at the edge of her lips. _What were the chances of Cullen believing it?_

“I just needed some air. I saw some light coming from here and I came to see how you are doing. Most people are asleep by this point of the night.”

Cullen’s eyes softened. “That they are.”

The chills faded and Solona glanced about the room. It was dim, but Cullen had several candles burning throughout the space so she could still see pretty well. Her eyes caught on nearby box that was being used as a table. The book he had tried to give her rested on it. _Oh, Cullen. So kind._

She walked over to it and traced the cover designs. A thought stopped her and she turned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you.” 

Cullen had sat back into his chair. He smiled and said, “You didn’t. I was going to be up for a while and it’s nice to have some company.”

Solona’s shoulders relaxed and she returned his smile. “Thank you.” The Commander blushed and muttered that it wasn’t a big deal. 

Going back to the book, Solona continued her tracings, testing herself. She felt uneasy but her emotions weren’t out of control. Her hand closed around the edge of the book and she paused. _She was fine._

Happiness started in her chest and worked its way up to her eyes, making the book blur for a dangerous second. She could do this. Taking the book, she walked to the wall by Cullen’s desk and sat down, leaning against the cool stone. 

Cullen glanced her, frowning at the book in her lap. He looked like he wanted to say something, but something stopped him. Solona made herself comfortable and gave him a little nod, letting him know everything was alright. He bowed his head in response and then focused back on the reports. 

Solona slowly opened the book cover, reading the title and author’s name with a growing sense of joy, tinged with relief. She had thought books had been lost to her, but it now looked like that wasn’t the case. 

Without further ado, she turned the page and dove into the text.


	10. I Dreamed a Dream

She wasn’t sure how long she read but eventually she felt herself nodding off and decided it was probably time to allow Cullen to get some sleep. Putting the book back on its makeshift table, Solona thanked Cullen for allowing her to stay and went to go get some real clothes before Skyhold woke up.

Her day passed quickly despite her tiredness. She healed a soldier who broke their arm in a training exercise, taught some apprentices about the history of the Chantry, and watched Zevran impress people with his knife-throwing skills. 

Despite the drag on her body that put her immediately asleep, Solona dreamed of Alistair again, this time living a changed version of their wedding. She woke with a gasp and annoyed mages grumbled in their sleep.

If anything, the night was colder than the one previously. Solona gripped her arms tightly as she wandered the practice yard, wondering if she could somehow make her sleep dreamless if she was tired enough. She glanced up at the cloudy night sky, noting her breathe against the blackness. There was a reason for the snow on the surrounding peaks. 

Cullen’s office still had lights coming from it. She looked at it for a moment. _Did the man ever sleep?_ Perhaps she could talk Maxwell into letting his Commander have some time off. As far as she knew, the Inquisition wasn’t fighting anyone. Surely Cullen could be spared. 

An urge swept her for the serenity and yellow glow of the bare office. She kicked some rocks on the ground. Cullen would never turn her away but surely have a mage bother him at random hours of the night wasn’t a good thing. 

Her arguments against the idea continued for several moments before she sighed and headed towards the kitchen.

As she stood before Cullen’s door holding a tray, Solona realized the flaw in her plan. She was careful not to trip on the way here, but now she had no way to knock. Barmaids could hold a tray with one hand, so why couldn’t she? Solona tried shifting her right hand to the center than gave up on the idea. More than likely she would drop it. 

After a second’s consideration, she raised her voice and called out, “Cullen?” The moment his name left her mouth she regretted it. What if he had fallen asleep at his desk? She didn’t want to wake him. 

Her concerns were for nothing because a few moments after she had called, the door opened. Cullen appeared, blinking at the sight of her. 

Solona blushed at her forwardness. “I’m sorry. But I couldn’t sleep again and I saw your light and thought… well, I’m not quite sure what I thought, but I came with gifts.” She held out the tray for him to admire. 

Confusion turned to something else as Cullen smiled at her. “You’re always welcome.”

Nervousness fading, Solona allowed her lips to curl upwards. “Thank you.”

The Commander held the door for her as she entered and set the tray on the table. _Didn’t drop it._ “We have tea with honey, some dried fruit, and I managed to grab a few pastries before the cooks kicked me out.”

Cullen came up next to her. “It’s kind of you to bring this.” Solona played with her fingers. 

“It’s selfishness actually. I was hoping to burn some of the night away here and I thought food might convince you to let me stay.”

Cullen laughed, a gentle sound that she hadn’t heard from him in a long while. “I’ll take it no matter your reasons.” He grabbed a pastry and walked back around his desk to his chair. He moved some papers and motioned for her to take a seat. She complied, grabbing one of the mugs of tea. _Cold._ With a wave of her fingers, she warmed the two cups with a small heating spell.

The templar froze and Solona winced. 

“I’m so sorry,” she said, panicking a little. She had ruined it. “I just thought it would be better hot, I forgot that… I’m sorry. I can get you a new one.” She started to stand but Cullen’s hand stopped her. He forcibly relaxed his muscles. 

“No, it’s alright. It just startled me. Old instincts die hard,” he said. With effort, Cullen reached out, took one of the mugs and sipped the tea. Solona watched him as he swallowed and smiled, this action genuine. “It’s good. Thank you.”

Solona hide her embarrassment by drinking her own tea. “It’s nothing.”

After munching on the treats she had brought, they reassumed their positions from the night before, Solona sitting with a book and Cullen working at his desk. A few minutes passed and then Cullen spoke. “Would you like a blanket or something to sit on, Solona?” Solona pulled herself from the text, trying to remember what he had said. 

“Hmm?”

“The ground looks rather uncomfortable. I do have some blankets."

Solona shook her head. “Thank you but no. If I was comfortable, I might fall asleep, which was the problem in the first place.”

To her relief, Cullen didn’t ask, just looked at her with those concerned brown eyes and nodded. 

The dreams continued the following nights and every night Solona would distract herself by leaving the mage quarters. Cullen’s office was always lit and her ability to resist the comforting warmth of that room proved to be almost nonexistent. Cullen never seemed annoyed to see her, but his continued lack of sleep worried her. She at least tried every night but he couldn’t be getting more than a couple hours. _Was there really so much work for him to do?_

By the fifth day, she gave in and got a sleeping potion from one of the apothecaries. She spent the day in the herb garden where no one would notice that she moved as if walking through cream. The sun took a long time to reach the horizon and by that point Solona was sure she wouldn’t need a potion. She would be unconscious if she stopped moving for more than a minute. 

But nevertheless, she drank the prescribed amount of the bottle and climbed under the blankets. Her head spun and she was sure that her bed was drifting in a whirlpool. The haze clouded her mind and then she was gone. 

She stood in a black abyss. Solona held out her hands. She could see them, but little else. Slowly, the landscape came into focus. The sky was green and mass pieces of earth floated in instead of clouds.

The Fade. 

Solona brushed her robes. At least she knew where she was and was aware of herself. 

“Solona? Is that you?”

Her head shot up. Alistair stood in front of her, dressed in his Warden armor. He looked as she’d last seen him, except for the scratches and cuts that covered him.

“Please tell me that’s you and not another demon.”

“Alistair?” Solona didn’t want to believe it. It couldn’t be true.

“Solona!” Alistair smiled and came towards her, arms out. Solona raised her staff, pointing it at him. 

“You are supposed to be dead, Alistair.”

“Dead? Oh, because I fought that giant demon-spider-thing? I enraptured him with tales of the different kinds of cheese and when his guard was down, I danced a jig and he keeled over. It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

Her staff shook as she traced his injuries with her eyes. That obviously wasn’t true. He had fought long and hard to get away from the demon. 

“Tell me something only you and I would know.”

Alistair raised an eyebrow. “The first time I said I loved you was in the Deep Roads.”

Solona was trembling so hard she was amazed she didn’t simply fall apart. “Someone could have overheard that.”

“You were the first girl I ever kissed.”

“You were in the Chanty, someone could guess that.”

Alistair rubbed his head. “You aren’t making this easy. Okay, how about this? When you wake up in the morning, you always have this little crease in your forehead before you see me. You add too much ginger to your food. I have never seen anyone more beautiful than you. We started trying for a child shortly after Kirkwall’s Chantry was destroyed. The last time I saw you, we had a discussion about who was going to go where and I thought my heart was going to break when you disappeared behind that hill. You are the only woman I’ve ever wanted and I want to spend the rest of my days by your side.”

Solona was crying and dropped her staff. Alistair came forward and held her tight. Solona gripped him back, terrified that she would lose him. _Never again. No matter what happens, we stay together._

“I’ve missed you,” she whispered into the griffon symbol on his chest. 

He nuzzled her hair, breathing deeply. “I’ve missed you too.”

She couldn’t have said how long they stood there, locked in each other’s arms. Honestly she didn’t care. If she never moved, she would be happy the rest of her life. 

“Solona, I need a favor though.” Solona pulled back to look at him, heart tightening at the sight of his adoring brown eyes. “I’m stuck in the Fade and I need your help to get out.”

She blinked. “What do you need?”

“Well, I need to…mark you… I suppose that is the best way to put it. That way I can follow you into the real world.”

Solona bit her lip. “I see.” Lightning crackled in her fingers and she pushed against him. He didn’t move as the energy hit him but his face shifted for a second, brown eyes turning red.

Crying out, Solona threw more magic at the creature with Alistair’s face. She managed to get out of his arms and started running. 

“My dear lady, where are you going?” The creature was still using Alistair’s voice but it was different somehow. 

Solona grabbed her staff and pounded across the Fade. _She needed to wake up!_

“Love… you can’t get away from me.”

She cast a spell as she ran, destroying the ground. Hopefully that would give her more time. 

Rounding a mass of black stone, she skidded to a stop. The creature wearing her dead husband’s skin smiled at her. “We promised we would never leave each other.”

_Wake up!_

He came closer to her, arms out as if for an embrace.

_Wake up, Solona!_

“I love you so much, Solona. It hurts that you would run from me.”

_No!_

She opened her eyes to darkness. Mages shifted in their sleep and someone cried out. _She was safe._

Her muscles still ached, but she felt calm. 

Trying to be quiet, she left the mage quarters, not even bothering to grab anything to cover her sleepwear. The night air was crisp against her skin and the first puff of wind sent a series of goosebumps up her arm. She closed her hands into fists, fingertips tingling. 

As usual, Cullen’s office had light seeping from it, but Solona didn’t know if she could handle company right now. She climbed stairs till she reached one of the corner towers, passing several well-bundled guards who gave her strange looks but said nothing. 

The sky was clear tonight, the moon full. In a word, breathtaking. Solona took in a deep gasp of air, feeling it chill her throat. It was getting colder up in the mountains; her skin was sharp with icy pain. She tried to ignore it. Caring about things hurt. In her desire to live life again and keep her friends from worrying, she had forgotten that. This time she’d remember.

Quiet footsteps alerted her to his presence. She didn’t even need to look to know who it was. No one else would be awake. 

Without a word he found a place close but no too close to her and relaxed against the wall. A gust of wind played with Solona’s hair and numbed her to the bone. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to move even if she wanted to. 

“Do you ever sleep?” Solona asked.

“I catch a few hours here and there. Occasionally a whole night. But it’s hard to convince myself to go to sleep when I know that more than likely only bad dreams await me.”

She glanced at him, surprised by his honesty. He didn’t even look embarrassed. _It must be because it is so dark,_ Solona realized. _It makes him more comfortable._

“What do you dream about?” She asked softly, wanting to know but not wanting to push him. 

“When Uldred rebelled and what followed.” 

If she could actually feel her body, Solona might have been sick. What had been done to him by the blood mages ten years ago still kept him up at night. 

“Are you alright, Solona?” Cullen looked straight ahead when he asked this, not even peeking in her direction.

After Cullen’s show of truth, she couldn’t lie, but she didn’t have enough energy to be honest either. Instead, she asked, “Do you know how to perform the Rite of Tranquility?”

The templar seemed to turn into the ice that she felt like. “I do. I even did it a couple times while in Kirkwall. But after everything that happened there, I dislike it. I used to think it was a mercy for mages that couldn’t control themselves, but now… now it is just another form of death.”

Solona sent signals to her hands and watched them slowly curl. 

“I’m so tired of it all, Cullen. I try so hard to back my decision to live with action. I make friends, I find useful things to do with my time, I have even started reading again. But then one thing happens and I’m back to where I’ve started, unfeeling as I bleed to death. It just hurts to care!” She raised her hands to hit the stone, but instead set them gently against the rock. _It’s not like she could feel much more than a buzzing sensation anyways._

She hadn’t intended to say as much as she did, but now it was out there between them, shining in the moonlight. 

“I’m sorry. I… shouldn’t complain. I am just… tired,” Solona said after several moments of quiet. She laid her head on her hands, pain prickling at the pressure. _Cullen must think me a crybaby. I am always going to him for my problems._

Something tightened on her arm and suddenly Solona was moving. She took a step, legs protesting, and fell. Cullen caught her and cursed quietly. “You’re frozen stiff. Let’s get you inside.”

Stars blurred and then it was lighter, with grey stone framing them. Cullen laid her down on something soft and she tried to see it. A couch. 

“I got it for you… and anyone else who might come to visit of course.” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck and then got her a blanket. As the feeling that came with heat slowly came back to her skin, so did the pain as her skin protested her decision to go out into the cold without being properly covered. Solona closed her eyes, a soft whimper escaping her. A hand found hers and she squeezed, more pain flaring. Gradually she warmed up enough that the pain too went away and she relaxed. 

“Solona, I don’t want to ask, but I feel like I must. Are you dealing with demons when you dream?”

Her eyes shot open and she tried to sit up. Cullen’s hand tightened on hers but he helped her to lean against the couch end. When she was somewhat stable, Solona spoke softly. “What would make you ask that?”

“I may not be a templar any longer, but I was one for a long time. I can’t ignore a sleepless mage, even if she is the Hero of Ferelden.”

_A templar. That was right. He would… worry._

She debated the pros and cons of telling him. It would hurt. She didn’t know if she could talk of crushed dreams. 

“Please. Trust me. I can help.” The templar’s words were too soft. Too gentle. 

Laughter came, harsh and strange. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m beyond help for anyone but the Maker and his bride.”

Cullen’s response was silence and to take hold of her other hand. Solona breathed, trying to calm her hysterics.

“It’s Alistair. Always Alistair,” she said, almost unable to hear herself. “I see him… smiling, laughing… loving… Memories reborn or conversations respoken.” She stared at her hands entwined in larger ones. “He asks me why I left him.”

The Commander breathed out, his sympathy held back by templar training. “Tonight he… I… in the Fade… He…” She couldn’t do this anymore. Jerking her hands, Solona got them away from Cullen and tried to stand. Her legs got entangled in the blanket and she crashed, hitting the floor hard. The pain was fleeting but she curled up as the tears began to fall. 

“He said he was trapped in the Fade.” Her words surprised her as they appeared intermixed between the sobs. “He wanted to get out. I… I should have known better... It was like the Harrowing... But… for a second… I believed he was still alive…” _Alistair, how could I believe that thing was you?_

Cullen was silent. 

Solona cried for a few more moments before dragging the blanket out from her legs and getting unsteadily to her feet. She wiped at the wet streaks on her face. 

“I’ll be fine; I can still tell reality from trickery in the Fade. You don’t need to worry about me turning into an abomination.” With those words, she left the Commander’s office, the trails the tears left cold. He didn’t follow.

Leliana found her as she made her way back to the mage quarters. “Are you alright?” 

_She didn’t deserve to have such good friends,_ Solona thought numbly. 

At her lack of response, the sister wrapped her arms about the mage, hugging her. “I’m sorry that I haven’t been around more. The Inquisition has a lot to do and with Zevran here as well… I should have been there for you.”

Guilt washed over Solona. She couldn’t let Leliana think that. “You have been the best friend anyone would hope for. I just... struggle sometimes.”

“Would it make you feel better if we slept together? Zevran can find someplace else for night or I’m sure he would love to be there for you too.” 

Her first instinct was to say no, she could handle this, but the thought of returning to her cold bunk dissuaded her. Without a word, she allowed herself to be pulled through Skyhold to the room the rogues were sharing. 

Zevran sat up when they entered, rubbing his messy blond hair. A candle was lit on a night table, giving them just enough light to see by. The elf looked from Solona’s red eyes to Leliana’s face and sighed dramatically. “Out in the cold for poor Zevran eh? Not that I blame you, Leliana, our favorite Warden is a more beautiful companion than I but still, the betrayal.”

Studiously ignoring the fact that Zevran was only wearing his smallclothes- she hoped- Solona said, “You can stay if you want. I wouldn’t want to shake your arrangements. You two don’t get much time together.”

Leliana gave her a look but Zevran grinned. “Spend the night with two lovely women? You don’t need to ask me again.”

The Nightingale squeezed Solona’s shoulder and crossed the room to grab some cloth from the floor. “At least wear pants if you are joining us.”

“Why would I do that? An Antivan Crow in his full glory is not something to scoff at,” Zevran protested even as he slid the pants on under the blanket. When he had finished, he scooted over and opened his arms wide. “Come, my Warden, and we will make beautiful music together.”

Solona smiled a little as she crawled next to him, allowing herself to be wrapped up in strong arms. A part of her relaxed at the feeling of someone next to her and she felt herself getting sleepy. Leliana took off her coat and joined them in bed. Blowing out the candle, she stretched one arm over both Solona and Zevran and then gripped the mage’s hand.

Feeling a bit like a mabari pup in a litter, Solona fell asleep.

oOo

She woke up once from bad dreams during the night, shaking. Zevran mumbled something and pulled her closer, whispering comforting sounds into her ear. Leliana didn’t say anything but moved so that Solona was almost squished between their two bodies. Surrounded by friends who cared for her, Solona felt her terror fade and sleep return.

oOo

The next morning had her asking to meet the Inquisitor shortly after the sun rose. The attendant-guard asked her to wait and she settled into a chair in Jose’s office. It didn’t take long for confident footsteps to enter the room.

“Hero Amell, what can I do for you?” Maxwell walked over to lean against the desk. 

Solona had slept better in one night than she had in the last week, giving her a strange confidence, so she pushed aside all trepidation and asked, “Is there any chance that Alistair could still be alive and trapped in the Fade?”

Maxwell blinked and studied her carefully. “It’s been months since I first told you of your husband’s death. You only think to ask this now?”

“I had a…dream where Alistair told me he was lost in the Fade. I know that particular one was false but it has me worried. Please be honest.”

A mask seemed to slide over the Trevelyan’s face as he thought. Solona forced herself to remain calm. She trusted him to do the right thing but whether or not he decided the right thing was to tell the truth was another matter. 

“There is a chance Alistair could have survived fighting the demon. It is small, but I won’t doubt the strength of a Grey Warden. However, Alistair’s physical form was in the Fade. We have no idea how the rules we take for granted apply there. If he had gotten hungry, there would have been nothing for him to eat. With demons lurking at every corner, he couldn’t have stopped to rest for long. No. I am sorry, Hero, but as I told you. Your husband is dead.”

His words stung, sharp daggers to her heart, but at the same time they were a relief. The chance of Alistair was alive was outweighed by the possibility that he would have been suffering. At least she could once again be confident he was at the Maker’s side, no matter what the demons tried to make her believe. 

“Thank you, Maxwell. I appreciate you telling me and I’m sorry for being mad at you before. I know you were only doing your best to keep you and your companions alive. No offense to the Champion, but if anyone was going to be a distraction to a demon, it was Alistair.”

The dark-haired man in front of her seemed at a loss for words. Solona smiled at him and with a slight curtsey, left to see how the healers were holding up.


	11. A Shocking Truth

Lightning cracked across the evening sky, creating spots in Solona’s vision. Wind whipped across Skyhold, stealing hats and scaring horses. People ran for cover as the world seemed to shake with the booms of thunder. Even the air was charged with raw energy. 

“Hero, you shouldn’t be up here! There’s a storm coming!” A soldier shouted, hand on his helmet. Solona glanced at him. A person covered in metal. _That would catch the lightning’s attention. It always does like shiny things._

“You should leave before it gets closer. I’ll be fine as I am,” she said, crossing her arms in order to appear firm. 

Either her words or the shuddering of a nearby mountain convinced the soldier that she was right because with one final look in her direction, he was running down the stairs to the relative safety of a shelter. Solona watched him go. _She should really follow. It’s not good to be this high up with a storm coming._ But something about the fury of nature was calming. 

Several days had passed since the beginning of her dreams in the Fade. They were recurring and repetitive, but they broke her heart every time. If not for Zevran and Leliana, she didn’t know what she would’ve done. At least with them she could fall back asleep instead of roaming Skyhold and disturbing Cullen. Their presence and kindness allowed her to keep fighting the whirlwind of emotions that threatened to overtake her. _She would keep moving forward. For her friends, for herself, and for Alistair._

A flash of white energy crossed the landscape in front of her and Solona felt her skin tickle. The storm was getting closer. In the distance she could see the inevitable rainfall but for the time, they would only have to deal with the lightning and the wind. 

“Hero Amell, I must ask you to leave the battlements with me,” the familiar voice of Cullen intoned. 

Solona turned to smile at him. He had been awkward since their last encounter, ducking when she waved at him. The one time she had gone to talk to him, he had apologized for doubting her and had proceeded to excuse himself for some task or another. But he was a templar after all. Even Alistair had taken a little time to stop jerking every time he felt magic. And he never did like Morrigan. Her smile dimmed. 

“Cullen. I’m glad to see you. Isn’t this weather amazing? Leliana says that Maker is in the world around us. I have always liked that belief. Can’t you feel it?” She whirled around, arms out. “The energy being tossed around… there is no real way to describe it. A hundred dragons couldn’t match it.”

Cullen watched her, brown eyes undiscernible. Solona laughed a little then sighed. “Don’t worry, Commander. I have no intention of harming myself in any way. I just like the feeling of dry lightning. Do remember my preferences? Every mage has an element that they connect with just a bit more than the others. The one they reach to without thinking. Mine was lightning. Irving thought it was strange for my personality, but I have always liked it.”

Her ramblings did little to shake the templar’s stony gaze. She looked back at him, tracing tired lines and dark splotches. 

“Are you still staying up with reports?”

Finally his eyes left her, going out to the incoming storm. “There is a lot to do to keep up with this many soldiers.”

“Cullen,” Solona said, a thunderclap echoing across the Frostbacks. “If you would have me, I would like to help you when I am in Skyhold. I could read those reports and give you a quick summary of them. Or perhaps I could go talk to your men for you; I know a number of them by name. You don’t need to do everything yourself.”

To her surprise, the Commander of the Inquisition smiled. “I will consider that. I appreciate the offer, Solona.” 

She smiled then froze, feeling the energy in the air. _Too soon!_

“Get down!” She yelled, raising her hand and pulling on her magic. Cullen, ever a soldier, ducked, looking for the opponent. 

Lightning struck, hitting the most alluring thing around. A mage high in the sky. 

The pure energy surged through Solona’s bones, ricocheting through soft tissue. _Have to… keep it away from… the heart._ Her thoughts were unfocused, all concentration on keeping the raw power from destroying her. 

Cullen slowly stood, staring at her. His hand twitched for his sword. 

Solona knew she must be a sight. Stray sparks flew from her fingers and eyes. Offshoots of the main lightning trailed down her arms and skittered across the stones by her feet. Internally the wild lightning clashed with her mana, confusing them both. _This could get bad fast._ She closed her eyes in order to concentrate better.

She tried directing the lightning to a safe spot but it pushed back, electrocuting her sharply in the chest. Someone moaned. _Focus._ She cupped her magic, moving it slowly upwards. 

_Protect the heart._ A cocoon of magic surrounded the vulnerable organ. Her skin was starting to sizzle. She had held the lightning too long. 

“Solona?”

“Stay back!” She hissed, temporarily losing control of nature’s kiss. It burnt a patch of skin on her hip and she bit off a scream. _No time for pain._

She slowly raised her hands, pulling the energy with her. _Everything hurts. She was going to explode!_

Opening her eyes, she forced the lightning from her skin, sending it back into the sky. The dark clouds rumbled. 

Something solid hit her knees and then her front. Stone. Rain fell and she saw Cullen lean towards her.

“Not yet!”

She wasn’t in control yet. Her own lightning magic churned, sparking through her body. It had encountered something beyond itself and it wanted… a change. Solona’s hands trembled from where they were pinned beneath her. She was running low on mana. What little she had left was protecting her from the most serious of injuries, but if she didn’t calm her inner energy down, her heart would stop. 

Rolling over, every drop of rain shocked her, lightning wanting to fight back. _No. Calm._ Eyes shut she pictured a meadow, grass swaying. _No enough._ Children playing. _Not that either._ She needed something that calmed her down. _Brown eyes, strong hands, and a stronger laugh._ Solona focused on the image, pain flickering in her chest even as she relaxed. _Cheeky grins as he teased her, safe arms around her, gentle kisses… A rose that he had gotten from a village that didn’t exist anymore. A shield from a mentor to help him remember those he had lost. A hope for the future and a sense of duty to make everything right._

When she opened her eyes, the lightning had calmed. Above, the worst of the storm had passed, leaving only gentle rain that intermixed with the salt water that ran down her cheeks. A sense of peace that she hadn’t had in a long time surrounded her. Her love was gone, but he was not forgotten. They had loved each other fully and without regrets. Even when they fought, they came back together, determined to live their lives together. It had been a good thing. 

Rain water got into her eyes and she blinked, peace making her not want to move. 

A worried face with blond hair came into her vision, careful not to touch her. “Are you alright?”

Solona laughed and acting on instinct, sat up to give him a hug. The templar froze for a split second then hugged her back.

“I’m fine, Cullen. I am truly fine.”


	12. The People Remember

Solona ran through Skyhold, trying not to crash into every person she passed. She still bumped into a reasonable number as she attempted to make her appointment. _She was so late! Why had Leliana insisted on braids?_

Darting into the great hall, Solona stumbled over a pile of books but caught herself before she could hurt anyone. Who would put something in front of the door? She glanced back at the books’ owner. _He was back from Kirkwall?_

“Good morning, Varric!”

The dwarf laughed. “Is it really good? Did you finally read one of my books?”

“Not yet, but it’s on my list.”

“Sounds like an excuse!” Varric yelled as she ran into Josephine’s office and crashed into something else. She really needed to watch where—It was Cullen. One of these days she was going to injure him.

“And the other person we need has arrived,” Jose said, laughing as Solona stepped back, blushing.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s not a problem,” the Commander said smoothly. 

Grateful he wasn’t going to make a big deal about it- _of course not, this was Cullen_ -Solona smiled and turned her attention to the dark-haired man staring at her with an eyebrow raised. 

“You’re late.”

She blushed again, eyes on the floor. _This was the last time Leliana did her hair._ “Sorry.”

The Inquisitor sighed, massaging his forehead. “Fine, fine. I called you both here to tell you of a mission I am sending you on. The Hinterlands still have not recovered from the Breach, multiple refugee camps are littering the area. We are going to help them rebuild their homes and basically survive the winter. We need this show of goodwill to prove our use to Thedas as well as solidify the loyalty of the people of the Hinterlands. 

“Commander Cullen, I am sending three squadrons of soldiers to help with the relief effort. I want you there to make sure they behave and do their jobs. They will think twice about any sort of mischief soldiers get into during times of trouble with their commander close by. Hero Amell, the people of the Hinterlands still remember the Blight. To have you among them will be a great source of encouragement and inspiration. Do what you can.”

Solona nodded. Helping people get their lives back in order? She could handle that.

“Ser…” Cullen began.

“Yes, Commander.”

“Wouldn’t my time be spent better here while one of my senior officers led the troops in the Hinterlands?”

“Perhaps, but that’s not what I’m telling you to do. It hasn’t escaped my notice that you’ve been burying yourself in work. This way you will get out of that office of yours and into the world while still doing some good for the Inquisition.”

Cullen studied Maxwell and nodded sharply. “Understood, ser.”

“Good. You will be leaving tomorrow morning, so start making plans. You are both dismissed.” Cullen saluted, Solona attempted a curtsey, and they left. 

The door shut behind them and Solona glanced at her friend. “So, the Hinterlands.”

A short laugh. “Yes. The Hinterlands.”

oOo

The sun rose early, turning the sky pink. Solona stumbled out towards the stables, not awake yet. Zevran had kept her in bed with tickles and kisses and only Leliana’s intervention had gotten her out of the room. Smiling to herself, she ran into a soldier, apologized profusely and found the stable master who told her where she could find her horse. 

A soldier she had healed over a month ago offered to help her with her horse and Solona accepted gratefully. She and… Alistair… had usually walked places. She liked horses, but that didn’t mean she knew much about them. 

Cullen was already at the front of the assembling group of soldiers, directing and yelling. He smiled at the sight of her and she moved to join him, listening to the confidence in his voice. There seemed to be no doubt in his mind that he would be obeyed. 

The budding sunlight warmed her skin and Solona set down the pack she had packed the night before. Her entire life was in there. Everything she had brought to Skyhold with only a few changes in clothes. She glanced at the medium sized bag. It wasn’t much, but at the same time, it was everything.

Soldiers were marshaled into formation and Maxwell himself came out to see them off. The members of the Inquisition cheered and the Commander saluted. Leliana and Zevran made an appearance and Solona waved good-bye. She would miss the two rogues. Maybe she would find them sort of present. In a refugee camp. _Probably not._

They rode out of Skyhold in a grand style, the Commander of the Inquisition and the Hero of Ferelden in front. Solona wondered at that. As far as she knew, there wasn’t any visiting dignitaries they needed to impress. Or perhaps it was because Cullen was with the group and that required more formalities. 

She peeked at the man, his hair shining in the early morning light, every inch a leader. She laughed to herself. Once upon a time he was just an awkward templar. So much had changed. She certainly had.

_Alistair._

Solona closed her eyes, trusting the horse to know the way and took a deep breathe of the crisp air. She could do this. She had a choice and she would take it. Just like she had decided in the tub and reaffirmed in the lightning battle. A fresh start.

oOo

 _It’s good to be out of the mountains again_ , Solona decided. They had barely rode out of the Frostbacks when she already began to feel warmer. It was nice to be reminded that winter was not upon them quite yet as the green vegetation of the lowlands were still in full force. Their party was barely into the grassy areas when Solona spotted something and was off her horse in a flash, jumping on one foot to disentangle her leg from the saddle. 

Cullen called out to her as she ran over to a tree, bending down. She plucked a plant and walked back to the company of soldiers that had slowed. She winced as they stared at her. _They hadn’t needed to…_ Climbing back up onto her horse, she showed Cullen her prize. 

“I recognized this plant from the book you gave me. It’s an herb that helps with nausea and vomiting.” She paused, realizing that she was probably making a fool of herself. _Who jumps off a moving animal for some vegetation?_ “If we are not in too much of a rush, I would love to gather some more herbs so we have something more to offer the refugees than manpower and the basic supplies.”

Cullen smiled a little, studying the plant in her hands. “We aren’t in too much of a rush, but try not to stop all the time.” Solona grinned. “I can agree with that.” 

A short time passed before she spotted another group of plants and got stuck in her saddle trying to get back off. A soldier nearby dismounted to help her and Solona thanked him before noticing he was familiar.

“Well, hello John. I didn’t know you were on this trip. I hope this isn’t a bother but would you mind helping me with something?”

The Commander watched, amused, as the day progressed and Solona recruited more and more of his people to help forge, till she had almost half of his sixty troops picking plants, firewood, and anything else of interest. Some she had scouting out ahead to hunt while others started to walk so that their horses could carry the supplies. Solona had once said she made a terrible Warden-Commander but somehow Cullen was beginning to doubt the accuracy of her perspective. As more men started having to walk in order for her supplies to fit, Cullen made a mental note that at the first sign of a town or village, he was going to buy another wagon and some horses. Walking all the way to the Hinterlands would tire out the troops before they were half-way there.

oOo

Time may have passed since the last time Solona had been in the Hinterlands, but it didn’t look much different. The trees were still tall, the grass was still green, and the wildlife was prevalent, not Blighted. Less bandits, but perhaps that was because no criminal with a bit of sense would attack sixty well-trained soldiers. Completely different from when it was just her and Alistair. 

_Yep, still hurt._

Solona pulled back on the reins of her horse. Luckily, this was a very good animal and it didn’t question her lack of horsemanship skills. It slowed and she was able to get some distance between her and Cullen before the Commander started giving her those worried looks. She appreciated that he cared, but still bothered her that she made her friends concerned so often. 

“John, didn’t you mention your family was in the Hinterlands before the Breach?”

The soldier nodded. “They had a small farm near the East Road. It was destroyed during the fighting between mages and templars and then a rift opened near it for a time. I don’t know if they’ve tried to go back after that. They are Ferelden, so they are stubborn, but sometimes there is so much a person can take, you know?”

It was probably the most she had ever gotten him to say, but she didn’t like the look he got when he said it. 

“They will be fine, John. I know it. Fereldens don’t just lie down. They are fighters.” Leaning over, she reached to place a hand on the soldier’s arm, the only thing she could think to do to comfort him; however, she overextended herself and lost her balance, slipping off the horse. She yelped, dangled for a second as her foot caught in the stirrup and then hit the ground. Her horse nickered, stopping and a call halted the rest of the group before she got trampled. 

Within moments, the Commander was there. He climbed off his gelding- _how did he make it seem so easy?_ \- and walked over to her. She was already sitting up, John having leapt down almost instantly. 

Cullen looked at her and his lips twitched. “Are you alright, Solona?” 

She got to her feet, shoulder stinging. That was going to bruise. “Yes. Lady is a good horse, I just need to figure out how to stay on her.”

“Perhaps we should put you in the wagon with all your plants.”

 _Was he serious?_ Solona studied him. She didn’t object to riding in the wagon, but she was pretty sure they would need the space when the hunters returned. His eyes were crinkled, shoulders relaxed.

“I think I will just have to continue to practice.”

Cullen smiled. “Just don’t go leaping off for too many wildflowers.”

“Even wildflowers have their uses. Brightening their surroundings, creating dyes, or helping the wooing process. The refugees need all the assistance they can get.”

“Of course,” Cullen said, eyes dancing. Solona smiled at him, grateful that he hadn’t made a fuss over her inadequacy at staying on a moving animal. She would learn. Eventually.

oOo

“Commander Cullen, I am glad you have arrived. I am Lieutenant Ross, the person in charge of the mess in this region. And is this the Hero?” A strong-looking woman, blond hair pulled into a tight ponytail, greeted them as they entered the base. Solona tore her eyes away from the children in rags to smile shakily at the lieutenant. 

“I am, but please, just call me Solona.”

To her and Cullen’s surprise, the woman grabbed Solona’s wrist and knelt, the back of the mage’s hand pressed against her forehead. “I couldn’t, Hero Amell. I was in Denerim during the Blight. Without you, I would have died as would have everyone I loved. Some may forget what you did, what the Wardens have always strived to protect us against, but many of us never will. Thank you. I know it isn’t much, but if there is anything you need, please just ask.”

By the end of the woman’s speech, Solona was making an excellent impression of a rose, face red hot. 

“You don’t… I mean… it wasn’t… um…” She looked to Cullen for some sort of help. He seemed somewhere between astonished at the woman’s reverence of Solona and amused at the fact his old friend was this embarrassed. 

“Thank you for your kindness, Lieutenant. I am sure the Hero will come to you if she wants for anything. Now, how are we doing for supplies?”

In his effortless way, the Commander took charge of the situation. Solona understood what they were saying but she knew that she was probably missing a lot of details they took for granted. They didn’t even bother saying how many people could be fed with one bag of grain, they already knew. Face slowly cooling, she looked out over the camp. It was larger than she had expected. Corypheus had been defeated months ago, people would have been safe from demons, and the mage-templar war was over, or at least calmed down significantly. 

Dirty children played in the opening that could be called a road, ignoring the Inquisition as they chased each other, screaming. Her chest tightened at the sight of them, eye catching on a blond boy. She wondered… _No, now was not the time._

Beyond the path, men and women were slumped in varying levels of defeat, mud from a recent rainfall covering them from head to toe. Someone needed to take care of these people. _The Arl or Anora or… someone._

She was glad the Inquisitor had sent them here. 

Leaving the armed men behind, Solona walked off the path towards an older women whose leg looked infected. 

“Some bread, kind serah? Just something to ease the pains for a time?”

Solona knelt down next to the woman, ignoring the smells coming off her. She had smelt worse. “I don’t have any food for you yet, but I can help. Would it be alright if I took a look at your leg?”

The woman nodded and Solona gently brushed back the thin fabric- _this was all she had with winter coming?_ \- and realized something. Her first guess had been wrong. The leg wasn’t infected, this was a disease. One that came with poor nutrition and poorer living conditions. 

Sadness and resolve intertwining into something she couldn’t name, Solona held her hands above the skin and healed the woman, magic moving from her as easy as breathing. The woman gasped, hands making fists in the dirt. Her eyes were wide. 

“Magic…. You…” She looked at her leg and blinked several times. “You healed me. Oh, kind serah… I don’t know how I…” Tears welled-up and spilt over, clearing some of the filth from her cheeks.

Solona hugged her, squeezing the woman as tightly as she dared, she was so thin. “It was nothing. You have been through enough.” Pulling back she smiled at woman who began to weep. “Now, now. We are here. Things will get better. I promise you that.”

She stayed with the woman for another minute, hand on her shoulder. The woman had to be a decade older than her but for some reason Solona felt like their roles were reversed. Finally when the woman seemed somewhat calmer, Solona stood, looking for someone else to heal. That’s when she noticed people staring at her. 

Whispers began on the side closest to the road and like a wave, it rolled over the refugees. 

“Hero… the Hero… Ferelden… save us… Blight…. The Hero… Came to save us…”

The refugees came closer, swarming her. Dirty hands brushed her robes, her skin, lifting her hair from her shoulders. Solona forced herself not to move even though the feeling of so many hands was terrifying. She closed her eyes, trying to think of something else, anything else. Then the tone of the whispers changed.

One by one and then in larger groups, the refugees dropped to their knees, some disappearing as tents obstructed her view. Soon everyone but the soldiers she had traveled with and Cullen were kneeling around her. 

Solona found there were levels to absolute embarrassment. 

“Please,” she said almost in a whisper. “Please stand up.” She looked to the woman she had healed and helped her to her feet. “You don’t need to do… that.”

The people slowly stood but it was as if they gained roots from the moment. They seemed more hopeful than they had been just minutes before. There were even some smiles on the faces. Solona didn’t quite feel like she was going to melt and she thanked Alistair, the Maker, and even the Inquisitor for sending her here. She would help these people, even if it took everything she had to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have noticed, this chapter was a bit of a tone change to the ones previous. Simple answer? However much I enjoy mental torturing these characters, they can't stay semi-depressed forever. 
> 
> But don't worry! There will still be angst. But it will now be intermixed with fluff and other stuff. Enjoy!


	13. What a Relief (Effort)

She spent the day healing. For the first time in a long while, Solona remembered that magic-users were rare. Being in a Circle and then in her travels, it had seemed almost common. It was hard to think of herself as something special simple because she could cast spells. But these people had been subsisting on potions and basic medical knowledge for most of their lives, her ability to make diseases, broken limbs, and toothaches almost instantly better was amazing. Until some of the other healers shooed them away, a small crowd watched astonished, as with a wave of her hand, painful wounds closed.

Eventually though, her mana ran low and she had to resort to more traditional healing methods. It wasn’t as rewarding though. She watched a woman walk away with a thin, waling infant and lost all desire to find some supper. She needed to be able to do more. If only she had thought to bring some lyrium potions. _Perhaps Cullen had some._

Before she had gotten too involved in her work, Lieutenant Ross had pointed out where she and the soldiers would be staying, somewhat separate from the refugees. Solona headed in that direction, needing to find Cullen. She wanted to feel his… solid presence once more. Without that and after everything she had seen today, she had the feelings her dreams would be bad. 

“Hero?”

Solona turned. An elderly woman, who could have been anyone’s grandmother, balanced on a thin cane. She was a bit cleaner than most and even had a majority of her teeth. 

“I’m sorry if you were going somewhere, but I just wanted to invite you to our camp tonight to share in our rations. They aren’t much, but there will be conversation and some laughter, which makes any meal taste better.”

Startled, Solona said the first thing that came to mind. “I haven’t done that much.”

“You have done more than you think. You have shown these refugees that someone cares about them, something they haven’t really had in a while. Would you be willing to amuse an old woman?”

Solona couldn’t help but smiled. “I would love to join you. But I was just about to visit a friend--“ 

The woman waved off her concerns with a wrinkled hand. “Bring them along. Any friend of yours is a friend of ours. I will send one of my nephews to guide you to our fire.” With that, the older woman hobbled away, cane thumping against the pressed earth. 

Watching her go, Solona wondered what she had gotten herself into and went to find the Commander.

oOo

“Where exactly are we going?” Cullen asked as they followed the small dark-haired boy through the maze of tents and campfires. He was still wearing his armor, his right hand resting on his sword handle. Despite her assurances that the woman seemed harmless, the templar thought they were going into a trap. It took every persuasive skill she had developed as Ferelden’s Warden-Commander to prevent him from bringing a group of soldiers with them.

They came to a medium-sized campsite. There were several patched tents set up around it, none of which looked very steady and the refugees had cleaned the area more than most others. It didn’t seem to be a particularly good spot for an ambush but since she had never tried to set an ambush, perhaps she just didn’t know what to look for.

“When I said you could bring a friend, I didn’t think you meant a handsome young man,” the woman she had spoken with earlier said, appearing from a nearby tent. Her white hair was pulled back in a tight bun and for a painful moment, she looked a bit like Wynne. “He is more than welcome. He may stay all night in fact. It is not often we get such an attractive view these days.”

Cullen started to say something but couldn’t quite get it out. He looked away, staring up the few constellations visible. Solona touched his arm, laughing and he smiled slightly, cheeks still red in the firelight.

“Thank you for coming, Hero. I am glad you agreed to join us. I am Auntie Meribez. And who is your ravishing companion?”

“Cullen Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition. At your service, serah,” Cullen said, bowing in the direction of Auntie Meribez. She smiled broadly and pulling her skirt to the side, gave them an unrefined half-curtsy. 

“An honor, Commander. Brains, brawn, a high ranking position, and very handsome. You pick them well, Hero.”

Solona froze and Cullen rushed to intercede. “It’s not like…that. We are old friends. And she… I couldn’t…”

Auntie Meribez just laughed. “Fine, fine. Have it your way. But I have several single daughters and nieces that you may be interested in, Commander.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Cullen said, hand on the back of his neck. “It’s like the Winter Palace all over again,” he muttered. Solona just smiled, his awkwardness lessening her previous spike of anguish. She never had never been attached to anyone besides Alistair before. It was… a painful notion, one she hadn’t even considered before. _Be with someone else?_ Other people did remarry, but she didn’t know how she could ever feel those emotions again. 

She forced her face to stay smooth, refusing to ruin anyone else’s mood. Her ten years with Alistair had given her more happiness than most people got in their entire life times. That would have to be enough. Auntie Meribez guided them to sit on some worn mats by the fire and she settled down next to Cullen, his armor shining in the red-orange light. 

_Besides_ , Solona reasoned. Even if she could love again, the matter of finding someone who would love her back was something that took time, and even her semi-settled state at Skyhold didn’t leave much time for interactions. Shaking her head at the pain that went through her chest, Solona pulled her attention back to the growing number of people coming to the campfire. 

Auntie Meribez introduced them one by one but it was soon apparent that there were too many for her or Cullen to remember. The older woman laughed at their expressions as she told them the name of a cousin’s granddaughter. “We are all family here. ‘You’ works just as well as any name. Just relax and enjoy our simple hospitality.”

More people joined them at the fire, squeezing the two members of the Inquisition closer together. Solona laughed when someone bumped her, sending her falling into Cullen’s lap. She grinned up at him from the crook of his arm and he smiled down at her before helping her regain her place. 

Laughter started as the family members began talking about some shared memory, giving the dirty faces an inner light. No matter how hard life was, they still had each other. _She would never have this._ A large group of people who all cared about each other, even if they didn’t always get along. Siblings, parents, and cousins sharing a simple meal together. _Now is not the time_ , Solona reminded herself.

She took the bowl of potato stew offered and tasted a bite. Nostalgia. She had something similar hundreds of times. It was one of the few things Alistair had been able to make.

Eventually, Cullen leaned against her, saying that it was time for him to be heading back. Disliking the idea of trying to find her way back through the dark tents alone, Solona said she’d join him and they expressed their good byes. Auntie Meribez insisted that they return the next night and there was little they could do to turn her down. The older woman promised to send one of her nephews for them and they left the happy glow of the campsite. 

It was colder as they walked back to the Inquisition’s part of the camp. Solona had forgotten due to the warmer weather that winter was still coming. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. 

They were quiet, but it wasn’t awkward. Solona liked that Cullen didn’t need to fill the silence with words. He walked her back to her tent, they exchanged good-byes, and she fell onto her bedroll, exhaustion suddenly hitting her. 

Alistair was waiting for her when she closed her eyes. 

The scene was different from normal. Its edges still looked like the Fade, but the majority of it could have been real. She was wearing thick wool that itched her skin yet still felt natural. Surrounding her were green fields and some small structures that were probably a house and a barn. _She was on a farm?_

“My dear wife, back from adventuring already?”

Even though she knew that this wasn’t real, Alistair’s voice relaxed her. Sharp pains rang through her chest with the knowledge that she would never hear it again when she wasn’t dreaming.

“Back for now,” Solona said, not quite ready to break away from the illusion. Alistair smiled and came forward to hug her. The familiar feeling of his arms closed her eyes even as she wondered when the blow would hit. _Demons can’t give Alistair back_ , she reminded herself. 

“The children will be glad to see you,” he said.

Solona looked up, startled, and he kissed her. 

A bolt of heat went through her and she pushed her hands through Alistair’s hair, kissing him fiercely back. She couldn’t even care that this wasn’t real even though she knew that she should. Later. For now, all she would concern herself with was the feeling of warm lips, strong arms, and a growing ache. 

“Alistair,” she breathed as he moved to kiss down the side of her neck. 

He laughed. “Yes, my love?”

Solona gasped as he sucked lightly on a particularly sensitive spot, making Alistair laugh again. “Perhaps we should take this inside. I’m sure the children can be persuaded to go play in the barn for a while.”

 _Children?_ The word bothered her, breaking the spell of love and lust. 

“We don’t have any children, Alistair,” Solona said, pulling away slightly.

Brown eyes reflected her own confusion. “Of course we do. They are right over there.”

She looked to see two small shapes playing in front of the house, facing away from her. Their blond hair was lighter than their father’s, the girl’s trailing down her back. Despite herself, affection for these false children blossomed in her chest. _What could have been…_

“Hey, come greet your mother!” Alistair called. The children turned around.

Their faces were skulls.

Solona tried to back away but Alistair held her tight.

“Aren’t they lovely? They look just like you. I am so glad to have them when you’re away for long periods of time.”

_Nononono…_

The skull-faced children came closer, hands outstretched towards her. 

_No!_

Magic came when she summoned it, a blast of fire separating her from her dead husband. The flames scorched her arms but she ignored the pain, starting to run. She had to get away from… those things. _Her children._

Solona woke to a damp pillow, cheeks stiff with dried tears. Her stomach rolled in her belly and she leaned to the side in case she threw up. No such luck.

She continued to lay there for a time, emotions swirling. The demons did enjoy picking at her weak points. Eventually she stood, knowing that sleep would allude her the rest of the night. Instead, she threw a cloak around her shoulders and went to find the night watchman to talk to.

oOo

The next day came loud and fast. Soldiers moved around, disturbing the refugees. Cullen took charge, yelling at his soldiers to stop making such a ruckus and discussing work details with Lieutenant Ross. Solona found a healing area and started taking patients. Most were simply suffering from diseases common in places that were filled with people who didn’t get to bath regularly, but the occasional had more serious injuries or conditions. 

After finishing with a mess of blood from a refugee that had curled up too close to a fire for warmth and had gotten burned, Solona was in no mood for food even when a soldier handed her a warm bowl. It was a simple fare but without a doubt, better than anything the refugees had in a long time. This thought brought Solona out to the main camp. Her eyes fell on a young mother with a crying baby. She looked tired.

“Here,” Solona knelt next to the woman. “If you want, you can have this and I’ll hold the child.” 

Suspicion ghosted across brown eyes but the smell of warm food was too tempting. Without a word, the woman handed Solona the baby, taking the bowl almost reverently. 

As the mother ate, Solona rocked the child, singing to it. It’s crying continued so she cast a weak healing spell, easing any pains. The baby hiccupped and its tears slowed. Solona smiled and hummed a tune. The small person yawned and closed its eyes. It had a pleasant weight to it and was the perfect size to hold easily in one arm. _So this is what it would be like to have a child_ , she thought, contentment cooling. 

By this time, the mother had finished and was watching her with dark considering eyes. 

“Do you have any family around here?” Solona asked, subtly casting a regenerative spell on the sleeping baby. 

“No. My husband and I came to start a farm. When the sky ripped open, a demon got him.” The woman was crisp, almost as if she was reading the words from a page. 

Solona carefully gave the woman back the child. “My husband was killed by a demon too.” It struck her that her situation was not that unique. Many of the refugees had lost loved ones to demons. She didn’t quite know what to make of that so she placed it away to think about on a later date. 

“My husband died trying to get some food from our home. I told him not to go, but he did and he died.”

Solona shuffled her feet in the dry ground, tracing an indistinguishable shape with her boot. “Do you think it gets any easier?”

The woman laughed bitterly. “Honestly? I think life will throw whatever crap it can gather at you. You just try to weather through the best you can. The Chantry sisters talk of a Maker but what kind of god puts his people in this pit? Not one I would want to follow.”

Surprising both herself and the woman, Solona hugged the refugee, gentle enough not to crush the baby. “Don’t give up,” she whispered into the woman’s dirty brown hair. “Where there is life, there is hope.”

The woman shifted, pulling away from Solona. “I don’t know what kind of life you’ve had, but my experience is that life is pain. We try to dig out our own little bit of happiness and make a better existence for our children. That’s all there is.”

Solona’s feelings over the last six months urged her to agree with the refugee but she found that she couldn’t. “Please don’t think that. People can surprise you.”

“Not anymore.”


	14. Small Victories and Smaller Steps

She was almost able to name all of Auntie Meribez’s family by the fourth night. She recited them to Cullen who nodded or did nothing depending on whether or not he could remember. The real problem was that there seemed to be different people each night. There were a few regulars but many seemed to be part of a large adopted refugee family Auntie Meribez had developed. 

“I’m sorry, I thought I had all the names but I can’t remember yours,” Solona apologized to the young dark-haired man who sat next to her. 

“Rafon,” the man responded, studying her. Solona stretched, looking away for a moment before glancing at him from her peripherals. His eyes were still on her. 

“Are you really the Hero of Ferelden? The Grey Warden who ended the Fifth Blight?”

Solona laughed a little. “Yes. Though as I tell everyone who asks, it was only chance that it was me and not the other Grey Warden in my group. He was the melee fighter and was supposed to land the killing blow. I had trouble keeping the sword upright.”

“But doesn’t that make what you did even more incredible? A mage slaying an archdemon… it doesn’t seem possible.”

Barely able to smother a smile, Solona had to ask, “And what does me being a mage have to do with anything?”

Rafon paused and his too serious face colored slightly. “I… Well, mages… They aren’t considered the most physical bunch.”

Solona laughed and said, “You need to be careful about judging people. Not even the Qunari are all the same. It’s easy to forget but people are different in the world than in your head. I had to learn that when I left the Circle and repeatedly since.”

The young man’s eyes gleamed. He glanced at the fire then back at her, intense. “Would you tell me about leaving the Circle and stopping the Blight. I’ve spent most of my life in the Hinterlands, hearing about the world beyond… would be amazing.”

Pursing her lips, Solona thought back to the year she had spent traveling Ferelden. Her happiest moments during that time were when they were on the road, in between all the chaos. “What would you like to know?”

Rafon didn’t even hesitate. “What were the darkspawn like?”

“Horrible,” Solona said. “But strangely human. They are just… twisted somehow. Wardens can feel their corruption, the taint. I don’t know, it is hard to describe them right. It’s like trying to describe elves and Qunari at the same time. Ogres are large and terrifying, hurlocks make me think of death, and it is not difficult to imagine genlocks crawling out of some dark hole.”

“When did you kill your first one?”

Solona laughed at that. “That is hard to say. But I probably killed my first one in the Korcari Wilds, right before I became a Warden.”

“What were you doing in the Wilds?”

_He certainly had a lot of questions. But then again… was she so different a decade ago?_

“We had to gather some materials for the Warden’s Joining ceremony and Duncan, the Warden who helped me get away from the Circle, also wanted us to find some Grey Warden treaties that were left in a fortress years ago. Fortuitous in hindsight.”

When she stopped speaking, the campfire was the only thing making noise. At some point, other people had begun to listen as well. _She had an audience._ Solona blushed, ducking her head. “But I am sure most of my stories are not that interesting. Cullen certainly has better ones.”

Dozens of eyes moved their weight on to the Commander who raised his hands in protest. “I doubt anything I have to say will compare to dealing with the Blight. These people already know about the events surrounding the Breach.”

His face was slightly red but he gave her a small apologetic smile. She was not going to be able to get away that easily. 

“I missed the beginning,” a female voice from across the pit said. “What was it like in the Circle?”

Solona smiled, twisting her thumb. _It is not that interesting of a story but since they seemed to want to hear it…_

“I was found to have magic at an early age, so I don’t remember what life was like before I went to the Circle…”

The night passed and after Solona yawned for fifth time in so many sentences, Auntie Meribez called for everyone to go to bed. Looking at Solona while she said it, the elderly woman announced that the Hero would still be here the next night if they had more questions. Solona smiled and yawned, turning in to her shoulder to hide her gaping mouth. At some point during the night she had started leaning against Cullen, allowing her to be more comfortable. 

“Sorry about that,” she said, sitting up and unable to stop herself from yawning again. Cullen helped her to feet. He held out an arm and she took it, walking back to the Inquisition’s section of the camp together. 

“Do you have much more to do tonight?”

“A bit,” Cullen admitted, pulling her gently to the side to avoid a pair of feet sticking from a tent. “Tomorrow we send out our first squad to start rebuilding. I need to make sure it goes smoothly. Our soldiers are good people, but that doesn’t mean they know anything about construction. This trip will be a waste if we build homes that fall over during the first rainstorm.”

“Are you going very far?” Solona asked.

“About a half-day’s march. I doubt there will be trouble on the way. Lieutenant Ross assures me the bandit activity in the region is under control,” Cullen replied, eyes distant as he calculated. 

“Would you like some mage company?”

The Commander considered it. “It never hurts to have some magical assistance though I doubt there will be much for them to do. Did you want to come along?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

He dropped her off at her tent and after exchanging good nights, headed off to his own quarters. Solona watched him go, thinking. When his figure disappeared behind the cloth structures, she went through the flap of her tent, sat at the small desk, and composed two letters. Before she could forget, she composed a quick message to Auntie Meribez, apologizing for skipping out on story-telling. When she awoke hours later, breathless with terror, she looked over the second letter and after tearing it to small pieces, rewrote it. The rest of the night was quiet as she stared up at the grey canopy above her, tiredness causing her mind to shift through relevant and irrelevant topics with equal measure. She had just started to drift off when the shuffle of feet alerted her to the fact that the camp was waking up and she roused herself for the day. 

The squad was ready by mid-morning and she greeted them, staff strapped to her back. Cullen and the other two squad leaders would only be gone for a few days so she didn’t think she would need much. The soldiers were just falling into two neat lines when Cullen emerged. Solona’s gut clenched at the sight of him. He was clean and orderly as always, but the bags under his eyes were noticeable, even at distance. 

_What was bothering him? Could it just be the memories from Kinloch Hold? Or was there something more?_

Whatever it was, it didn’t stop him from commanding with precision, making sure everything was in order before they left. The troops surrounded the two wagons. Cullen didn’t even pause in putting Solona and the traditional healer in the center, Solona smiling at being ordered around. It took a few minutes but soon they were ready to set out. 

The land passed smoothly, large trees and rolling hills still a welcome change then the cold unfeeling of the Frostbacks. She spent the time talking to the healer, comparing ideas on the uses of various herbs. The healer was a firm believer in elfroot, but Solona preferred to mix it up a bit more. Despite their differences, they did agree on a majority of subjects for which Solona was fairly happy. Most of her knowledge came from books and from tending to companions’ injuries over the years.

By the time sun reached its zenith, they had reached their destination. For several moments, Solona couldn’t figure out how this piece of earth was any different than the others they had passed but then she saw the ruined structures peeking from between the trees. Someone had been living here. 

Cullen climbed down from his horse and immediately began giving orders. The soldiers scattered, some heading towards the blackened remains while others grabbed axes and strode to the woods. “Solona, can you help bring that building down?” Solona attempted a salute, knowing that she probably failed miserably. The scar on the Commander’s lip quirked but his attention quickly was diverted elsewhere. 

Approaching the structure, Solona watched the soldiers scour it for anything useful. Lightning wouldn’t work in this situation. The last thing they wanted was a fire. It would have to be an earth spell then. Not her best skill set but she wasn’t too poor at it. 

“Anything Captain?” She called to the man with a slightly more decorative uniform. He went to attention. “No, Hero. Anything that might have been of value was long taken by looters.”

Solona nodded, _what had they expected?_ “Very well. If you wouldn’t mind getting your men out of the way, we can clear this structure.” Soldiers scattered as word reached them that magic was about to get to work. 

Once she had a suitable amount of space to work with, Solona closed her eyes, drawing on mana. It was a larger area that she wanted to affect. Before she could out-think the spell, she opened her eyes and cast it. Earth grumbled and moved, causing the closest soldiers to lose their balance. Boards cracked and with a deep breath, the building collapsed.

Men and women cheered. The captain laughed. “Easiest demolition I’ve ever been a part of. I don’t suppose you’ll be coming to all the sights.” Solona drew a shaky breath, the spell had taken more out of her than she had expected. “It depends on the Commander.”

The Captain nodded and started order soldiers to clear the remains of the building. 

Over the course of the rest of the day, Solona knocked down two more of the side structures, making it easier for the troops to remove the materials. Although she wasn’t sure if she was more of a help or hindrance, she also grabbed ends of ruined beams, dragging them away from the areas where they would be building. By the time the sun set, she was exhausted, arms shaking as she sat down at a random campsite. The common soldiers were happy to include her in their conversations and Solona struggled to add more names to her memory. 

Her dreams were fuzzy with fear that night. Alistair’s face lurked in the background, making her waking mind restless. Unable to fall back asleep, she joined the sentry, helping to keep them from getting sleepy as the sky to the east became lighter. 

The second day was better in some ways and worse in others. Better because she managed to get some pants to make moving easier. She was a bit embarrassed showing off so much of her figure but none of the soldiers seemed to care so she pushed it aside. It was worse because there was less mage-work that needed to be done, reducing her to manual labor. Of course no one would ask her to do it, but Solona was determined to be useful, struggling to carry rocks or timber. Her muscles were yelling insults at her by the time they finished for the day and she barely managed to stay awake through dinner. She dreamed of her children again and when she woke up, went for a walk, nodding to the sentry as she went some distance away from the camp to cry. 

By the third day they were ready to start putting up the bare bones of the first building. They had the structure ready, they just need to attach it together in a standing position. Solona stood back, far enough that she wasn’t in the way but close enough that she could still help. Cullen stalked around the soldiers, calling instructions. For once he was not wearing his armor, making it easier for him to join in when needed. 

“On my word! Ready, heave!” Cullen shouted. Together, the four groups of soldiers pushed the structures, slowly raising them. With a muffled crash, the skeleton of a home came together and more soldiers rushed in to stabilize it. The Commander made sure everyone was safe and it was solid and then they pulled back, human noise silent. Someone sent up a cheer and suddenly everyone was shouting joyfully. 

_They had done it. The first step towards helping the people of the Hinterlands get back on their feet._ Solona grinned as strangers hugged her. Spinning around she found herself in front of Cullen. Before she realized what she was doing, she wrapped her arms around him, laughing. “Congratulations Commander. You have successful built a house.” Cullen blushed, staring off at something above their heads even as his hands found her waist. 

His awkwardness was contagious and Solona rubbed her nose, wondering whatever had possessed her to hug Cullen. She had to think more before being casually affectionate with her friends. Just because Zevran didn’t mind didn’t mean everyone was like that. 

“It is only a small thing. We have a lot more to do,” Cullen was saying, still not looking at her. Solona smiled shyly. “Still, you did well. If the Commander thing doesn’t work out, you might have a future in construction.” He laughed lightly and let her go, stepping back quickly. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Relief that the embarrassment was fading made her grin and she set out to heal the scraps the soldiers had no doubt had gotten from lifting the beams. 

By early afternoon, Cullen and the other two squad leaders were ready to go. They had seen everything they needed to in order to make sure they knew what to do when they set out to do the same. Solona wished the soldiers she had met the best, climbing onto her horse. She was almost getting used to riding. 

Without much ado, they set off, riding away from the make-shift campsite. Cullen set a quicker pace than before so that they could reach the main camp before dark. Solona attempted to make some conversation with the two squad leaders but true soldiers, they were quiet. After a bit, she gave up, instead trying to guess which birds were making the songs. 

Her first clue that something was wrong when she ran out of bird noises. There shouldn’t be any people for some distance, what would make the birds be quiet?

“Cullen,” she began. The Commander nodded, hand slipping down to sheath attached to his saddle. 

“We may need to try to out run them.”

At some signal she missed, the two squad leaders slowed and moved to sides of her, protecting her leather-clad body with their metal ones. Solona’s staff was awkward strapped to the back of the horse, difficult for her to reach. Any spell she cast wouldn’t be precise. 

A series of thumps, and they were surrounded, men and women falling from the trees. 

“Members of the Inquisition, I would guess.” A dirty man in dark leathers said, a large sword on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t have left your group.”

Cullen glared at the person blocking his way. “If you know we are from the Inquisition, you would know what happens to those who oppose us. You will get nothing.”

The man grinned. “That would be true, but ransoming a person in your position, Commander, should get us more than nothing. Enough food and supplies to survive several winters I would think. What? You thought we didn’t know? We’ve been watching you for the last several days. You may not be wearing your fancy armor but it is hard to mistake the leader of the Inquisition’s armies.”

Face seeming to be chiseled out of unmoving stone, Cullen straightened, allowing his presence of as a leader to come through. “You won’t succeed. Making an enemy of the Inquisition is not a survivable.”

“We will do what we have to, Commander. As I know you would in our situation. Get them.”

The three soldiers of the Inquisition drew their weapons and Solona prepared herself, wondering at the possibility of not hitting her companions with her spells. 

“Ride!” Cullen shouted suddenly, and the four horses broke into a gallop. Startled, Solona didn’t hold on as she should have, slipping from the saddle and slamming into the ground. There goes that plan. 

The bandits cursed as the Inquisition broke through their ranks, Cullen glancing back at Solona, eyes narrowed with focus. For a fleeting moment, she hoped he would keep riding to safety but she knew him better than that. With a coarse shout, Cullen and the squad leaders turned their mounts around, racing towards Solona. They got to her before the bandits, rough hands hoisting her up behind the Commander.

It was too late to ride away at this point. The bandits were right in front of them, weapons bared. Cullen pointed his sword at the nearest enemy. “Let my people go and I will come with you quietly.”

“Cullen—“ Solona began but he shot her a look, shutting her up. _Too good of a man._

“Why would we do that? We could use some female company.” Cullen glared and the bandit leader laughed. “Don’t try to fool us, Commander. We know she’s the Hero of Ferelden. Just because she isn’t in mage robes doesn’t mean she’s complete incognito. The two of you will raise a tidy sum. Your other two men can go.”

“Ser, we don’t-“

“No,” Cullen said, assessing the situation. “Go back. Lieutenant Ross will know what to do. Solona and I will be fine.” The word ‘probably’ lingered behind his sentence, blindingly obvious. 

“Ser,” The two soldiers saluted and with a pause as the bandits parted, trotted off, Solona’s horse trailing after them. She watched them go, tightening her arms around Cullen’s waist. _She had been in worse situations before._

“Now, if you would just dismount, we can do this civilized-like.” Cullen stiffened and gently unwrapping her hands from him, dismounted. A second later, he helped her down before putting an arm protectively around her shoulders. One bandit came forward, taking Cullen’s blade and leaving them with nothing to fight but their fists… _and her magic._

Studiously ignoring the enemies around them, Cullen glared at the bandit leader. “What now?”

The leader smiled graciously. “Now we find a spot to wait, and you get to enjoy our hospitality. This way.” 

They walked in silence for a time, the only sounds were the crunching of dirt and sticks and the murmur of the bandits talking to each other. Cullen leaned down so his lips were almost pressed against her ear. “Remain calm. Ross will send people to rescue us. We should be back in the safety of camp before dawn.”

“Hey now, none of that love-bird stuff around here,” the leader said, smirking. “Do we need to separate you two? Actually that would probably be for the best. Fenle. Ritec.” Two men came forward, grabbing at Solona. She jerked away, not wanting to leave Cullen. Not just for her own safety but what if something happened to him? She at least had something that she could use to defend herself. 

Unfamiliar hands encircled her wrists, yanking her a step but they stopped as Cullen grabbed them. He could have been a mage as fire seemed to burn behind his brown eyes. “Solona stays with me,” he said, voice calm. 

“I don’t you understand what being a prisoner means, Commander,” The bandit leader said, shaking his head. There was a movement, a thump, and suddenly Cullen was falling. Solona yelped as his superior weight pushed her down, trying to support him. Her efforts were in vain as they both hit the ground. 

“Cullen!” She yelled, tracing her hands over him. There was a soft spot on the back of his head. 

Someone grabbed her shoulder. “He’ll be fine. You shouldn’t be worried about him.”

_She needed to do something._

Jerking away from the person’s grasp, Solona began to cast. 

“Hey!” 

Before they could stop her, Solona diverted a bit of her magic to strike the nearest bandit with a bolt of energy. She swung her arms around, indicating the entire area and raised her palms to the sky, pulling streams of mana through her system. 

Lightning poured from the sky, striking everything in sight. Solona threw herself over Cullen’s still form, doing her best to cover his much larger figure. Burying her face in his armor, she tried to tune out the screams of pain. _They would have hurt them. Don’t feel guilty about this._

It didn’t help.

Finally the energy dissipated and she glanced up. What had been a reasonable number of opponents had been reduced to smoldering bodies. _Don’t think about it._ She had to keep moving. Instead of dwelling on the bandits, she gave Cullen some breathing room, focusing on his head. Unable to cast anything complex without her staff, she pressed light healing magic- _so little mana left_ \- into the growing bump, hoping the templar would forgive her for using magic on him. Some color returned to his face and his chest began to move up and down in a steadier fashion. Solona smiled and pressed a kiss to his forehead, relieved that he was going to be alright. 

Startled by her own actions, she looked away, burning. _It was a good thing he was unconscious._ Trying to get control of herself, she turned her attention back to the injured Commander. She ran a hand through his dense curls, tracing where he had been hit. He should be fine, but it was hard to tell with head wounds. 

Several minutes later, just as Cullen was coming to, the clatter of hooves alerted Solona to the riders approaching them. The squad leaders slowed and dismounting, saluted her. 

“We saw the lightning, Hero. We figured that was a good of a signal as any. I hope that wasn’t too imperious.” 

Solona looked at the staff still attached to her horse and smiled. “Of course not. I’m glad you came back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out, I get as frustrated writing slow builds as I do reading them... *Inserts musical montage*


	15. Helping Out

Cullen spent the next several days leading patrols of the surrounding area. Lieutenant Ross was devastated that her assurances about the lack of bandits had gotten them in trouble and she threw herself into clearing them out. Solona stayed in the camp, falling back into her make-shift routine of helping anyone and everyone she could. In the evenings she would join Auntie Meribez’s family gatherings, telling stories and enjoying their warm companionship. Rafon was especially talkative, asking questions long after everyone else had gone to sleep. 

For the most part, Solona enjoyed it. It gave her a reason not to go to bed. She didn’t want to face the dreams that awaited her. But it was getting harder and harder to remain energetic as memories of better nights’ rest with Zevran and Leliana became distant. She was relieved when Cullen returned to the main camp to direct things again. He even agreed to join her on going to the evening campfire.

As they entered the orange glow of the campsite, Auntie Meribez perked up from her lounging position by the fire. “Oh my, I have seen the light. The Commander has returned.” Cullen bowed slightly to hide his embarrassment and Solona smiled on her friend’s behalf. 

Rafon had a fresh set of questions about life in the Circle and as Solona explained what apprentice quarters were like, she noticed that Cullen had gotten a young friend as well. A woman, just pass girlhood, maneuvered refugees to press into his side. 

“So Commander… are you seeing anyone?”

Solona turned her laughter into a cough, Rafon giving her a strange look. She smiled at him and peeked at Cullen. _Yep, he’s embarrassed._

“What? No… I’m married to my work.”

“Oh, so still single then. Has anyone ever told you that you have the most remarkable eyes?”

The man looked like he wanted to flee. “Yes, several times in fact. Thank you.”

Curling up next to him, the woman smiled, tracing his chest plate. “You know what I think? I think you need a woman in your life. Someone to massage your shoulders after long day and to help you… relieve other things as well.”

Now Solona was turning red as well. “I’m sorry, Rafon. Let’s continue this tomorrow. Cullen, are you ready to go?”

“Maker’s breathe, yes.” The commander gently disentangled himself from his admirer, standing. As they walked away from the campsite, he ran a hand through his hair. “That was almost as bad as the Winter Palace.”

Unable to help herself, Solona started to laugh. Cullen blinked at her and then his lips twitched. “It isn’t funny.”

She bumped gently into him, steps swaying. “You have admirers wherever you go? Even if I understand why they do, I don’t think I’ve ever a person more uncomfortable with… that sort of compliments.”

Cullen frowned. “I wish they would bother someone else. I am not interested in starting a relationship. I am perfectly content as I am.” 

The image of Cullen with a masked Orlesian noble came to mind and sent her into fresh laughter. _The conversations they would have…_ The Commander continued to frown at her as she attempted to compose herself. Thoroughly distracted she tripped over a rope coiling across the ground and he grabbed her arm to keep her from face-planting. She leaned against his shoulder, still laughing softly. 

They made their way to the edge of the Inquisition camp and Solona forced her mirth down. A long dark night stared at her. Surely there was something she could do to distract herself. 

“Are you going to be up for a while longer?” She asked the Commander.

“Yes, for some time yet.”

“Would… you mind if I helped?” Solona stared at her feet. Surely Cullen would understand. She sighed. “I would rather not attempt sleeping quite yet.”

“Of course not. You may stay as long as you wish.” He paused. “Not that I mean anything suggestive… you wouldn’t… Forget I said anything.”

Solona smiled and squeezed the arm still around hers. “Thank you, Cullen.”

oOo

Cullen’s tent was remarkably like his office at Skyhold. Small, organized, and perhaps just a bit drafty, there were roughly two areas to the tent. A desk and some space for people to stand and a bed that was so neat that Cullen was either an excellent bed-maker or never slept in it. Although Solona didn’t doubt the templar’s sense of order, it was probably the latter. 

“So, what would you like me to do?” she asked, stepping to the side so he could get at his desk. He sat down heavily, armor clanking. With a sweep of his arm, he took up the papers on his desk and handed her the first couple. 

“Read these and tell me what is important about them.”

 _Seems simple enough._ Solona scanned the documents. They certainly were official. _Tevinter Legacy records are less pompous._

Brown eyes watched her as she read, expression expectant. She smiled at him and set the papers back down.

“Ross has searched the surrounding area but has found no further sign of the bandits. A weapons supplier is not giving the amount of arms they should be, based on the facts given I recommend looking in the Storm Coast and Leliana is trying to be subtle about asking if you heard any rumors about someone named Therion.”

The scar curled and Solona curtsied slightly. “I am an ex-Warden-Commander. Seneschal Varel taught me well.” 

Cullen laughed, setting the reports to the side. “He must have been a great man.” She nodded, wistful. “He was. I might have run Amaranthine into the ground if not for him.”

“That can’t be true.” He handed her a generous third of his pile and she settled down on the cool ground next to him. It was like being back at Skyhold, except the wall wasn’t solid. 

“You’ve been to the Winter Palace and Skyhold,” she said, glancing at the top of the first report. “Nobles are… complicated. Something that seems reasonable to us is a foreign language to them.”

“Don’t expect me to disagree.”

She laughed and dug into the maze of words. 

Sometime later, as text began to blur in front of her eyes, Solona stood up, stretching. Cullen glanced at her as she walked in close circles in the small open area of his tent, trying to wake up. She rubbed her eyes and glanced at the Commander. The bags were largish and his hands shook ever so slightly as he held reports. He wasn’t that much older than her but tonight he looked it. 

“Cullen,” She began, wondering how to go about this. The Commander raised an eyebrow. “Could I… do something for you? It’s magical… so I don’t know if you’d be willing… but I would like to help… if that’s alright.” _That went well._

“What… what are you going to do?”

“Well, I was just thinking about what that woman at the campfire saying.” Cullen groaned, rubbing his forehead. “About massages I mean… And I remembered a spell for that.”

A bit skeptical, he watched her for a few moments, as if waiting for the punch line and then with a sigh, scooted his chair forward. She smiled and walked around him, balancing on the balls on her feet so not fall into the canvas. Positioning herself directly behind the templar, she began to cast. Cullen stiffened automatically, feeling the magic but she didn’t allow herself to focus on him, instead making sure her spell turned out just right. Healing and Rejuvenating magicks were a given. Then there was a slight Gravitation spell that pulsed. With complex weaving, she tied in heating and cooling spells to go along with the pulses. 

“Alright. Here it goes,” she said, determined not to make the templar too jumpy. Then she pressed her hands into the furry collar of his back. Cullen straightened for a second as the magic went in to his skin but then she felt him relax. _Did he just moan?_ His head dropped so his chin rested against his chest. As her hands parted to move across the width of his shoulders, the Commander braced one arm against the desk to keep his head up, leaning against a closed fist. 

She maneuvered her spell-covered hands over his upper arms then trailed down his back, Cullen obligingly moving forward so that she could work her magic on his lower back.

“Are you sure this isn’t blood magic?” The templar breathed. 

Solona froze, spell faltering. _Oh. A joke._ A bit shakily, she ran her hands up the expanse of plate, entangling her hands in multicolored fur. “As far as I know. I’ve been perfecting it since the Blight. After a long day, Alistair was always a willing test subject.” She paused, memories of happier times temporarily overwhelming her. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and she blinked hard, forcing herself not to start crying. 

Cullen didn’t say anything for a long moment as she once again continued the magical massage. “He must have been a good man for you to remember him so fondly.”

She couldn’t quite manage a smile but since he couldn’t see it, her efforts didn’t matter to anyone but herself. “He was.”

“Solona… you… I mean… I can listen, if you ever need to talk. I’ve heard that it helps the healing… process.” His right shoulder tilted to the side, as if he was going to try to move his arm, but then it slouched back down, muscles too relaxed by her spells. The strenuous efforts of her friend to do a simple movement transformed her attempt of a smile into a real one. 

“Thank you, Cullen. I’m not sure what I did to deserve a friend like you.”

The Commander huffed, the tips of his ears changing color. Solona continued the spell for another minute then decided that she should probably let him try to get some sleep. With a quiet good night, she went back to her tent. 

That night a red-eyed and fanged Alistair in a billowing black cape chased her through the Fade, determined to take the life he had lost from her. 

The sentry offered her a withered apple when she came to join him. 

Her days fell into a comforting routine. Healing and rejuvenating spells in the morning, giving her lunch to someone, helping various individuals in the afternoon. Every evening one of Auntie Meribez’s nephews would come to bring her and Cullen to the campfire. They took to bringing something with them so they wouldn’t be a burden on the extended family’s supplies. Afterwards, Solona would follow Cullen to his tent and they would work on reports and manage the general paperwork that came up with running a large camp. The Commander also received and sent reports to Skyhold, keeping on top of the activities of the Inquisition.

Once, when her vision was beginning to blur from trying to decipher a particular set of handwriting, Solona asked what exactly the camp clerks did. With a weary smile, Cullen said that they condensed the information down into what they were reading. Solona decided against that particular career choice in the future. She didn’t mind helping Cullen, but she didn’t think she could stare at bare numbers and facts all day.

Her dreams of Alistair continued, but some nights she managed to sleep most of the night before she awoke. Those nights helped. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough.

One thing that did concern her was Rafon. His questions had become pointed, drilling into a single topic. The Grey Wardens. There were a number of things that she couldn’t answer but she began to hesitate when Rafon asked how a person would go about joining the Wardens. Despite her realistic descriptions of the order, Rafon’s enthusiasm was unfaltering.

She was trying to think of a way to keep the young man from pursuing the course of action when there was a change in the daily noise of the camp. Solona paused from her light scan of her patient, settling over the burn on the leg. It was hard to say what was different. _A different cadence of voices perhaps?_ The groan of the man in front of her brought her back to reality and she set back to work on healing him. 

The feeling that something had changed continued so that once Solona had finished with the more serious cases, she stood, heading towards the disturbance. 

As she got closer, it became more and more apparent that something had happened. The refugees were smiling. Not only that but some were laughing, hugging, rejoicing. _What was going on?_

Seeing an Inquisition soldier, Solona approached them. Before she could even ask, the soldier smiled and said, “Hero Amell! Have you heard the news? The Arl of Redcliffe has sent supplies and men to help with the relief effort.”

“Arl Teagan?” Solona repeated.

“That’s the one. Lieutenant Ross has doubled the rations to celebrate. I for one certainly wouldn’t mind having some more food in my belly for a change.” The solider patted her stomach for emphasis, grinning. Solona found herself mimicking the expression. 

“That is news. Thank you for telling me.” With a wave, she headed in the direction the soldier had indicated. _So Teagan had gotten her letter._ She had been going on the assumption that the arl’s resources were stretched too thin to provide more to this single region under his control. But she was glad that he had added support. The quicker these people could have food and homes, the faster the area would recover. 

It didn’t take her long to find the supply wagons. Crates of materials were coming away from them in all directions. Horses whinnied and men shouted. The symbol of Redcliffe intermixed with the Inquisition’s creating a blur of color and design. 

Cullen was, of course, in the thick of it, directing Redcliffe soldiers where to bring the supplies. Ross was there too, echoing Cullen’s orders in her own loud voice. The templar spotted her first, coming over to join her on the edge of the chaos. 

“Apparently the Hero of Ferelden wrote to the Arl Teagan requesting aid,” he said conversationally, supervising the movements of the large crates. 

“I thought that since he was so close, he was the best ally to help us, especially considering our recent trade agreements,” Solona said, not bothering to deny it. 

Cullen just shook his head, amused at something. 

“Solona?”

Nearby a young man waited, hands clasped in front of him with his face hidden by his cloak’s hood. Not unusual with the chill but certainly distinctive. Solona peered into the shadows, picking out somewhat familiar features. _Teagan did everything she asked then._

“Hello Connor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? Some of the dialogue sounds familiar? Strange.... :D


	16. Party Like It's the Dragon Age

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so long but... no regrets.

The young mage looked awkward in Cullen’s small tent, soft angles accented and deepened. The Commander played with the reports on his desk, not really seeming to pay to the two magic users.

“So Solona asked Arl Teagan to send you here,” he repeated, obviously trying to assess the situation.

Connor nodded sullenly. “I thought it was a bad idea but he insisted.”

Solona leaned forward from her spot on Cullen’s bed. He had indicated for her to sit there and despite her discomfort, she acquiesced. Her skin itched and what she really wanted to do was stand and pace. “There may be some work involved, but Teagan was right to ask you to come here. We could use another mage.”

“But it is dangerous for me to be out here alone!” Connor said, gripping his nondescript brown pants. Her heart ached.

“If it makes you feel better, Cullen used to be a templar. He can keep an eye on you. But you shouldn’t worry. You are stronger than you know.”

“That’s what the mages at the Circle kept saying and look where some of them ended up,” Connor ground out. 

Barely resisting the urge to agree with the mage, _it won’t help the situation_ , Solona straightened. “Well, whatever you need, we are here for you. But that isn’t why I asked Teagan to bring you here; I was hoping you could help us.”

The young man frowned and Solona rushed forward. “I was the only mage in the camp before you go here. I can’t be everywhere and having another pair of magical hands would be very beneficial for the relief effort.”

“What would you have me doing?”

“You could assist me with the healing or…” Solona’s mind went blank and her eyes went to Cullen, begging him to take over the conversation.

“We also need help getting supplies and with demolition,” Cullen said smoothly. “I could send you out with one of our squads and they would have a number of things for you to contribute your magic to.”

Connor didn’t seem to believe them, but he didn’t protest. _I’ll take what I can get. He needs to be here._

Solona tried to settle the deal. “We need your help, Connor. If you really want to go back to Redcliffe, we won’t stop you, but I hope that you will consider staying.” It wasn’t her most convincing argument, but she prayed to Alistair and the Maker that it worked. 

The young mage stared at the ground, brow furrowed in a manner that was achingly familiar. “Alright,” Connor finally said. “I will stay around for a while.” The older mage smiled. 

“I’m glad.”

Cullen took charge of figuring out where to put the new mage and Solona headed back to check on the situation at the healing area. She didn’t make it far before one of Auntie Meribez’s nephews stopped her, grabbing her hand and dragging her towards the refugee camp. 

“Is everyone alright?” Solona managed to ask, breathing hard as they ran.

The boy nodded but kept moving. By the time they got to the familiar campsite, she could hardly see straight. She leaned on her knees, air coming in with painful heaves. 

“You didn’t need to get here so fast, dear,” Auntie Meribez said, emerging from a tent. Solona couldn’t even respond, a stitch in her side beginning to pinch. _She really needed to exercise more._

“But now that you are,” the older woman continued. “I was wondering if you would be willing to attend a little party my family is hosting in celebration of Redcliffe’s aid. A cousin’s daughter still has her lute and a wonderful singing voice so there will be music. It won’t be as grand as some of the gatherings you have been to, I’m sure, but I have no doubt that it will still be a good time.”

Taking several shaky breaths, Solona finally managed to get enough air into her system to answer. “I would… be delighted to attend.”

Auntie Meribez nodded as if she had expected no other answer. “Your handsome Commander is more than welcome to come as well.” Solona changed colors and tried to correct her.

“We are not… I’m not…”

The older woman waved off her concerns. “Whatever he is to you, I want to see him there. Now, we have to get you ready.”

“I’m not ready?”

“Dear, have you seen yourself?”

Solona self-consciously looked down at the dirt and hints of blood that covered her robe. “I do have some clean---“

“Nonsense, I have just the thing. This way.” Barely able to form a reason why this wasn’t a good idea, Solona allowed herself to be dragged away into a nearby shelter.

oOo

The evening was cool, crisp even. The shelter of the tents had protected the women from the chill as the evening went on but now Solona could appreciate the freshness of the late autumn air. She breathed deeply, feeling her lungs expand. A small hand grabbed hers and she smiled, looking down at one of Auntie Meribez’s many granddaughters. The girl didn’t look like she was related, her skin was a creamy brown and her dark hair was cut short around her ears. 

“You are very pretty,” the girl said and Solona smiled, struggling to remember her name. _It is a type of plant…_

She scooped the child up into her arms and small fingers played with the flowers that were in the braid that now wrapped around Solona’s head. “I had help… Felandaris. You have a very nice family.”

Seriously, Felandaris nodded and pushed a loose plant back into the weave, flashing small white teeth as she fixed it. 

They made their way back to the campsite and Solona paused on the edge, barely recognizing the area where she had spent every evening for the past month. The tents had been moved back, clearing a space by the campfire. A rug or blanket covered the large open area and the relative of Auntie Meribez was already tuning her lute. _A party._

“Do you know how to dance?” She asked Felandaris. The child shook her head. “Would you like me to teach you?” A nod. 

Setting the girl down, Solona smiled at the musician who began to pluck at her instrument. A simple tune came from the simple instrument, but it was perfect for teaching someone how to dance.

“Now I don’t really know how to do this myself,” she said, rocking back and forth, the small person following her movements. “But it goes something like this.”

Felandaris giggled as they swung their arms together. Solona spun the girl around, enjoying the enthusiasm. “You are a good dancer,” she told her and there was more giggling. Something warm formed in Solona’s chest and she wasn’t sure what to do with it. To distract herself, she looked up at the growing number of people. 

Cullen had arrived.

For once, he wasn’t in his armor, dressed in a plain red shirt and tan leather pants. A dark cloak clung to his shoulders, apparently enough to keep the cold of an impending winter away. He could have been anyone, a simple farmer, a humble man… except he wasn’t. He was too straight, too proud, too… golden. The expression on his face drew her attention. It looked as if his center of gravity had shifted, that was the only way she could think to describe it. Whatever had been keeping him attached to the ground was gone. He was staring at her, face shattered. 

“Excuse me, dear lady.” Solona bowed to her dance partner and walked over to Cullen. More people were gathering so there was some noise in the background when she asked, “Are you alright?”

Cullen… _blushed?_... glancing away. “You look… um… very nice.”

Solona didn’t know where to place her eyes. Her shoes seemed as good of a spot as any. “Th…thank you. The dress belongs to Auntie Meribez’s daughter. I have no idea how it stayed so clean, but I love the blue color…” She forced herself to stop rambling, knowing she probably sounded like a chattering fool.

They didn’t speak for several long heart beats. _Say something!_ “Would... you like to dance?”

“Thank you, no.”

“Oh.” She really needed to clean her shoes. 

“Not that… well, I never attended many balls as a templar… I suppose you didn’t either… but, I would rather not…”

 _Was it possible he was feeling more awkward than she was?_ Solona dared a smile. “It’s okay, Cullen. If you don’t want to dance, I won’t make you. I’m pretty sure I don’t know the spell for that anyways.” For a moment, she thought that he was going to say something to that but instead his scar turned and he laughed. 

“I’m relieved.”

Someone tugged on Solona’s dress and with a grin at the Commander, she was dragged off to dance with one of the refugee boys. 

Some time and dance partners later she whirled around to found herself in front of Rafon. _He is taller than I expected._ “Do you dance?” 

“Not really,” Rafon admitted. “But I try.” Not caring if they bumped into anyone, Rafon attempted to spin her and Solona laughed as she crashed into one of Auntie Meribez’s sons. 

“Sorry.”

They came together again, bracing themselves up against each other. Solona looked at the unlined face of the young man and a thought crossed her mind. 

“Rafon, I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Anything.”

Solona grinned at his earnestness and barely held back asking for something ridiculous. “I have a distant cousin who has come to visit, but he doesn’t really know anyone besides myself and the Commander. I was hoping you would be willing to show him around and keep him out of trouble.”

“I didn’t think mages knew their families.”

“Well, he’s not actually related to me. He is a cousin of my husband.”

Rafon processed this information, a good sign as far as Solona was concerned. “How old is he?” The young man finally asked.

 _That is a good question._ “Around your age, I think. Though I should tell you, he is a mage.”

A curiosity that she knew well lit up Rafon’s dark eyes. She hoped he wouldn’t ask too many questions. Connor was so sensitive to some of the mage issues. She wanted to help him deal with his identity, not push him further down the path towards despair. 

“I will help him the best I can,” Rafon promised. Solona smiled, relieved that at least her so-called cousin wouldn’t be completely on his own. “Thanks.”

oOo

The sun had long since set, the celebration still in full swing, when Solona noticed a tickling feeling that had been growing on the edge of her skin, sticking some of her arm hairs up. She studied the dark mass of sky and then went to Cullen. He was being kept company by several of Auntie Meribez’s younger female relatives. Hiding a grin at his obviously stiff expression, she asked them if she could have a minute to talk to the Commander alone. They left without complaining, but it was clear that they were annoyed at having to leave the presence of the handsome man. 

“Thank you for that,” Cullen said, running a hand through his hair. “I thought nobles were forward but at least they pretend to have decorum. I got several offers to…” He paused, reconsidering what he was going to say. “Is there anything I can help you with, Solona?”

“There is a storm coming, fast,” Solona said, deciding to go straight to the point. 

The Commander instantly appeared, plans and figures flickering behind his eyes. “Do you know how bad it’s going to be?”

Solona felt the energies playing across her skin. They were faint now, but increasing at an alarming rate. “Thunder, lightning, fast wind, and rain of course. Maybe even some hail.”

“Right,” Cullen looked out over the dancing refugees. “We are going to need to make that everyone has sturdy shelters and to cover up anything that could be exposed to the elements. Go tell Meribez what is happening and see if she can send some of her nephews to alert the other campsites. She certainly has enough of them. I will mobilize the soldiers.”

It seemed like a reasonable plan. Solona nodded and danced through the pack of family members to the short woman eating a piece of bread and watching it all. 

“What is it?” Auntie Meribez asked, expectant. She had seen their exchange somehow through the crowd.

“A storm’s coming. It won’t be horrible, but it could still cause some damage if we are unprepared for it,” Solona explained. The woman nodded and reminding the mage a lot of a certain blond commander, started yelling at her family, scattering them like she was tossing sticks. Confident that the refugees were in good hands, Solona went to find Connor and Cullen.

oOo

“You need to find shelter!” Cullen yelled at her, normally stiff hair moving in the wind. Rain pelted down, turning his shirt the color of blood and his cloak the color of night. Hail, small and sharp, intermixed with it, stones pricking their skin.

“So do you!” Solona shouted back, determined not to leave without him. He would stay until he felt that everyone was safe and she would keep him safe. The storm was only going to get worse. 

The Commander shot her a look then turned on his heel, heading off towards something. The rain was coming down so hard it was getting hard to tell where they were. Solona hurried to catch up to him, struggling to keep her balance on the mud and things she didn’t want to think about. And of course she was wearing a borrowed dress. Magic wasn’t going to be able to get it clean again. 

They strode through the camp, Solona recognizing some of the tent formations. They were getting close to the Inquisition’s section, only a bit and they could start—

Lightning flashed and she bit off a scream, diving to the ground, not even caring at the mess she was making to the front of her dress and neck. The muck was so cold. Her magic crackled and she tried to keep calm. This was bad. 

Cullen was bent next to her in a split-second. “What’s wrong?” He asked loudly. She could barely hear him as the thunder followed its partner, boom rocking her down to her bones. Barely aware that she was trembling, she clutched at the reassuringly solid arm.

“It’s looking for me.”

“What is?” The piece of her mind that wasn’t terrified was impressed that he heard her, she had barely spoken above a whisper.

“The lightning.” When he didn’t reply, she continued. “After that day on the battlements, storms… sense me. The lightning in particular wants to find me. It will strike me again if it can and even with all my mana, I don’t know if I could survive that a second time unscathed.”

Ignoring the base argument of lightning not being able to think, Cullen nodded and grabbed her hand. “Then we need to get you to shelter. Would that help?”

“If I am not directly exposed to the sky, yes.”

He pulled her to her feet and then they were running. Solona slipped and barely pausing, the templar hoisted her back up. The rain made it hard to concentrate on where to step and her skin got goosebumps as the storm got ready to let loose another strike. She tried to pull away from Cullen, just in case the lightning was close enough to hit her, but he only tightened his grip. 

“Are we going to make it to your tent?”

Gut twisting as two bolts darted across the sky in her direction, Solona wondered if a barrier would offer any protection. “No.”

Cullen cursed and jerked her to the side, changing directions. They entered the Inquisition campsite, red tents distinctive even in the fog of rain. A clap of thunder found her under Cullen’s arm, left hand now pulling them forward. He hunched over her slightly, as if he could protect her from the storm’s wraith. Energy tingled across her skin, sizzling with water. She prepared herself, getting ready to shove Cullen away if the lightning came after her. _She would need to be quick._

Then they were in the Commander’s tent and the sensation of near death stopped with the sudden dark. Solona breathed deeply even as the lightning cried out at the loss of a potential playmate, spreading cracks throughout the sky. The thunder that followed was a cacophony of booms, rumbles overlapping each other in an unnatural way. 

Shaking, Solona slowly opened her eyes, trying to pick out shapes in the blackness. That’s when she realized that Cullen was holding her tight, pressing her to his chest. The iron bars of arms trembled slightly.

“Cullen?” she asked, immediately concerned. 

For a long moment, she didn’t think he was going to answer. Soft breath into her air told her that he was alive at least. “That was… abnormal. I don’t think I like nature not following its normal set of rules.”

“No one does,” Solona agreed, not moving. The storm hadn’t frightened him, of that much she was certain. But it had at the very least unnerved him. Life had a way it was supposed to go and the military man must be deeply bothered when nature did what it wanted. Not that he would ever admit it. 

“Sorry, I…” Cullen pulled away and she could almost make out him rubbing his neck. “I’m glad that it’s over.”

“As am I,” Solona smiled, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to see it. “Though…I hope you don’t mind if I stayed here till the storm passed.”

“Of course. As long as you need to.” Then he moved passed her, stumbling into things with a soft curse. 

“If you find a candle, I can light it for us. It would be easier than looking for flint.” There was no need alarm him further with creating a magic ball of light. Moments later a long semi-soft shape came into her hands. Solona felt for the tip and with a brief pulse of magic, transferred a spark of fire from her finger to the candle. 

The sudden light hurt her eyes but gradually she got used to it. Cullen found another candle and touching his to hers, gave them two light-sources.

“That’s better,” Solona said even as more thunder echoed above their heads. 

“We are out of the rain and as far as we can tell, everyone is safe,” Cullen agreed, setting his candle on his desk. She put hers next to his, trying to ignore the sudden chill of wet clothing. Her muddy dress was plastered against her skin, forcing the damp into her tissues. As the Commander tidied up some papers that had scattered with their entrance, she gripped her arms, forcing herself not to shiver. _If she got cold now, it was going to be a long night._

Cullen turned and paused, frowning at her dress. “Forgive me, I forgot about your clothing,” he said. “If it isn’t too much of a bother, you are welcome to borrow something of mine… I mean… I know they won’t fit right… I could go get something more suitable.”

Solona smiled, a little amused at his ramblings. “Anything you are willing to give me would be more than enough.”

“Alright then,” the templar said, words coming out in an embarrassed rush. He walked over to a small bag near his bed and after ruffling through it for a few moments, handed her several articles of clothing. Movements just a bit too stiff he turned around, arms crossed behind his back, giving her what privacy he could in a small tent. 

Solona raised the garments up; they were truly much too large for her. But they were significantly better than spending the next several hours turning into a shivering prune. Feeling awkward at seeing a man’s back while changing, she turned to face the desk, giving herself the illusion of privacy. 

The dress was harder to get off than she had expected, cloth suctioned to her skin. She stumbled a bit as she pulled the last bit over her head, crashing into the desk. 

“Are you okay?” Cullen asked stiffly.

“Fine, fine,” Solona reassured, free hand held over the candle, trying to convince it to stop moving. Her skin felt so vulnerable, damp surface bared to the air. _Nearly naked in a man’s tent,_ she mused. _She hadn’t expected that to happen after…_

As usual, her attempts at normalcy, even inside her head, failed and trying to hide the stab of pain, she dragged Cullen’s dry shirt over her skin. Her smallclothes were still soaked, creating a growing dark patch on the cloth. After a second’s consideration, she tugged her breastband off, awkwardly holding the strip of cloth. She hesitantly set it on the wet pile of a dress and then pulled the pants on. The legs were at least one and a half larger than her own limbs so at least she didn’t feel like she was indecent. Cullen’s shirt went past her waist, almost down to her knees. She could almost pretend it was a short dress. 

“You may turn around if you want,” Solona said, gripping the top of the pants with a hand. 

Ever so careful, Cullen turned and even in the dim light, she could see something waver in his eyes when he looked at her. The air suddenly seemed too humid and she bent down to grab her soaked clothing off the damp floor. 

“Thank you for letting me borrow these. It is easier to cast drying spells when the item is not attached to a living creature.”

“Of course.” Cullen nodded and slowly approached. Her heart sped up. She took a breath and held it as he passed her to sit at his desk, picking up the top report on the stack as if it was any other evening. Solona let her air out, a shaky smile creeping up her face. _Just like any other night._

They did their usual routine as the sky rumbled overhead, working on numbers and troop movements even as time flowed by, Cullen still in his wet clothes. Solona had settled on the corner of the desk, reading small letters in the dim light and trying not to jump every time lightning snapped. _It couldn’t find her under the shelter,_ she reminded herself. 

Eventually she found it hard to keep her eyes open, slumping forward in her odd balancing position. When she almost fell for the second time, jerking awake, Cullen laughed softly. “You are welcome to use my bed while you wait out the storm.” 

Blinking several times to keep her eyes focused, Solona glanced at him and he blushed at his statement. “I don’t mean anything untoward, I will continue working of course.”

Even in the bare light of the candles she could make out the dark shapes under his eyes. He probably needed sleep more than she did. 

“I’m fine,” she said, trying not to wince at her catch-phrase. 

Cullen was not convinced, but as usual, he allowed her to maintain her threadbare illusion. That was until she knocked one of their candles off the desk when she tried to catch herself from literally falling asleep. The room grew darker as the wick sputtered against the dirt and went out.

The Commander sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Solona’s skin buzzed as a streak of lightning danced overhead. _Would this storm never end?_

“Solona, what would I need to say to convince you to go to bed?”

“You would need to go too.” He straightened, slightly alarmed and she realized the implications of her words. “Not with me of course, I could sleep on a dry patch of ground, but you need to get some rest Cullen. Determination alone can’t fuel you forever.”

A bitter smile. Solona reached out to gently brush his shoulder. “Please. Take care of yourself.” Cullen looked up at her, brown eyes saying unfathomable things. 

“Alright,” he muttered finally, standing. “But you get the bed.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to think of the fact she still wasn’t wearing a breastband. “No. I’m the guest. You take the bed.”

“Solona, I’m not going to argue about this.”

“Good.”

The templar worked his jaw, irritation growing. “Please.”

Not for the first time, she wished she was taller, or larger, or had horns. Anything that made her something more intimidating than a mousy mage. “Nope.”

They stared at each other, refusing to give way.

Cullen sighed, closing his eyes in resignation. “Fine. But I’m giving you most of the blankets.”

Solona nudged the damp ground with her toe. She could agree with that. 

Finding the least wet spot, several feet from the mattress, Solona cast a drying spell, sending it in a circle several feet around and at least two hand spans down. If it was lighter, she would have been able to see the ground change color as the water moved away, but instead she had to use her hand in order to check to make sure the spell worked properly.

Once she was certain nothing would be damaged, she took the blankets Cullen offered, making a sort of nest in the dry space. As she crawled into the cocoon, she felt her muscles automatically relax. For whatever reason, this was better than her own bedroll in her tent. _Safer, perhaps?_

At Cullen’s request, she kept her eyes closed as he too shed his wet attire. By the time she heard the sounds of him climbing on to his mattress, pulling up the covers, she didn’t think she’d be able to open her eyes if she wanted to. Lead weights seemed to be dragging them down, further and further as her mind started to spin. 

“Solona, would you mind…” Before the templar could finish forming the question, Solona waved her finger and the candles went out.

“Very useful,” the Commander approved and then she was gone.

An expanse of time later, Solona jolted up, gasping for air, the image of Alistair stabbing her repeatedly in the stomach ingraining itself into her mind. She covered her mouth instinctively, not wanting to wake her fellow mages. _That wasn’t right. She was… in the Hinterlands… but not in her own tent?_ Memories of the storm trickled back and she forced her limbs to still. 

It was silent in the Commander’s tent, the only sound her shallow breaths. She quietly patted her belly, making sure there were not any actual wounds. She was whole… on the surface at least. 

A building sick feeling had her standing, trying to figure out where the entrance was. There was not enough light for her eyes to work with.

“Is everything alright?”

_Of course she had woken him._

Not bothering to put on a good face, he couldn’t see her anyways, she replied, “As much as it ever it.” She took a step forward, getting her foot entangled in the blankets. 

A body shifted on the mattress. She could almost feel the templar’s gaze on her. At least she had a sense of a direction now. 

“Do you… I… well…” The poor man wasn’t sure how to ask if he could help and Solona wasn’t sure if she wanted him to. A thought passed through her mind and she immediately shook it off. It was a bad idea and Cullen would never agree. Leliana was like a sister and Zevran was, despite his endless flirting, like a brother but Cullen… for some reason she doubted the kind of friendship would exist between them which would make sharing the same bed okay. 

“I just need some air,” she told him, walking faster than she probably should. Her instincts were wrong and she crashed into the desk, banging her hip even as she fell forward. 

“Solona!” As usual, Cullen was there almost instantly, helping her back to her feet with steady hands. Solona gripped his arms to steady herself, strong male muscles infinitely reassuring. _What would it be like—No!_

“You should be careful,” Solona found herself saying. “I might take advantage of your friendship.” _What?_

“What do you mean?” 

“Nothing.” _You should just leave before you do something silly._ But her body wouldn’t move.

Then it did, slowly turning to face Cullen. She took a step forward, burying her face in his chest, arms locking around him. The soft but firm paradox of his skin failed to distract her enough to keep the tears from falling. As they started to come down harder, small sounds escaping her throat, Cullen wrapped his arms around her too, rubbing her back. 

Sobbing now, Solona allowed herself to be led to his mattress where Cullen pulled her into his lap as if she were a small child. Over seven months and so little has changed, she reflected in between choking breaths. She still missed Alistair so much that it felt like she might break into two. She missed his grins, his laugh, his… personality. Her hand ached without his to hold. It was getting easier when the sun was shining and there were things to do to forget, but sometimes when she was alone in the dark, it all came back with frightening freshness. 

As she ran out of tears, she leaned her head against the templar’s arm. “You are too good at this,” she half-accused him, rubbing at her eyes. 

“I have two sisters,” Cullen said as an explanation. 

_What would have Cullen been like as a child?_ She imagined a serious boy with short hair like the sun and smiled a little. Then she yawned, energy consumed by her fit of dark emotion. Cullen easily stood, her body still in her arms. He turned and set her on the mattress, pulling the covers up around her. Warmth filled her but it quickly fled as he started to move away. 

Blades to the chest.

“Cullen, would you stay with me?” She knew she was going to regret this in the morning. She couldn’t believe she was asking this of her friend. “I… don’t want to be alone.”

“I…” She had broke him.

“Please Cullen. Just for tonight.”

At first she thought he was going to say no, but then she was pushed gently to the side and a large warm body crawled under the covers next to her. Solona smiled sadly and curled up next to him. After a second, he hugged her to him, pressing their bodies together and she fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if anyone pays attention to these kind of things but due my schedule exploding, I will be updating once a week instead of every 4 to 5 days. Just so you know ;)


	17. Slayers

Solona woke in the dark, confused and content. She was on her side, head resting on a shoulder. An arm was curled around her, keeping her close and her legs were entangled in her bed companion’s. She was safe and warm; the Commander of the Inquisition was surprisingly comfortable. 

_What had woken her?_

Cullen shifted, murmuring in his sleep and she slowly pushed herself up, eyes adjusting as she stared down at him. _She had coerced him to spend the night with her._ A trace of guilt, nothing more. She was still too content to be concerned. Maybe she would be in the awkward morning light when they blustered about hoping soldiers were not complete gossips. 

“Leave me.”

Her gaze shot to the barely discernible features of Cullen’s face. _Was he…_

“Stop… no... leave me…” His nightmares. Heart hurting, Solona gently shook him, hand on his chest.

“Get away!” Cullen yelled and suddenly Solona was on her back, breath gone. A heavy weight settled on top of her and even as she gasped for air, python-like grips circled her arms. Pain sparked through her, muscles sending distress signals. 

“Cullen,” she breathed, even as his knee dug painful into her legs, hard bone crushing her. “Please! You’re okay.” 

The increasing pressure stopped and she could hear his ragged breathing above her. 

“I’m not a demon. You’re not in the tower. You’re safe,” she repeated softly as she managed to get some air into her lungs. 

A deep in-take. “Solona?”

“Yes.”

Then he was off her, rolling from the mattress. “Forgive me,” he said and half ran from the tent, not even faltering in finding the exit.

Solona stared after him, blinking. Then she too was scrambling out of the blankets, much more clumsily than the templar. Barely aware that she was still wearing Cullen’s clothes, she raced out of the tent, searching in the grey light. There was no sign of him. She listened, sending out her awareness in a light pulse of magic. _There!_ Cullen was still enough of a templar that this kind of magic wavered around him.

Attempting not to trip, she went after him, bare feet hitting the cold earth. A winter morning’s chill and neither of them were dressed for it. 

She found him stalking the edge of the Inquisition camp, hand in his hair. For a moment she watched him, the slowing of her heart bringing doubts. _What if he wanted some peace and quiet? What if she was only going to make things worse?_

But he was her friend. She had to do something. 

“Cullen?” Solona crept forward, hands out as if to pacify a wild animal. When he looked up at her, she knew she wasn’t far off. His face was twisted, eyes roaming over her body without pause. Looking for bruises, she realized. 

“Don’t come any closer,” he said, taking a few steps back. “I don’t want to…”

“You won’t.” She reassured him. A pregnant ‘on purpose’ lingered between them and she stopped moving, hands still out and growing numb with cold. “Cullen, you don’t need…”

“Yes, I do.” He insisted, looking away. His arms jerked as if they wanted to do something but weren’t sure what. Hands in fists he glared at the ground. “I attacked you, hurt… I could have done so much worse.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I wanted to.” The words were a whisper. He still wasn’t looking at her. Solona shivered, pressure growing behind her eyes. 

“I wanted to… end you. Before you could hurt me further. I’m still… there. No matter how much I try to distance myself from it, Kinloch Hold still haunts me.” His eyes met hers then and she took a step back. Cullen was a burning man, feeling his life slip away and knowing there was nothing he could do about it. 

Tears fell then and Solona forced her voice not to waver as she asked, “Is it always this bad?”

Cullen frowned at the liquid trailing down her cheeks. “No. It comes and goes, but it never leaves completely. I… I’m not taking lyrium anymore.”

Before she could stop herself, Solona was at his side, hands over his skin, beginning a spell. Then she shut it down. _He doesn’t want magic right now._ “Cullen, that could kill you.”

He smiled, but there was no joy in it… just not defeat. “It hasn’t yet. I went without for a while before, but with Corypheus… the Inquisitor thought it would be best if I wasn’t distracted.”

“And you agreed?”

He whirled on her. “What choice did I have? We were at war and I…” He trailed off and with careful even movements, Solona laid a hand on his arm. Despite the freezing temperatures, he was hot, burning her skin with the difference.

“You didn’t want to give less than your best.” She finished for him. Brown eyes met and something passed between them, a warmth and a shiver that interfered with the beat of her heart. Cullen relaxed slightly, hand covering her own. 

“Yes.” A callused thumb brushed against her skin, absently circling. Solona waited then slowly smiled. “Now, let’s go get our clothing. No sane person, even a templar, should be out like this in winter.”

Cullen blinked at her attempt at a joke and squeezed her hand, finally noticing that her fingers could have been carved from ice. “Oh, you didn’t have to… I would have—“ 

Solona shook her head. “I did and it’s fine. Let’s go before the troops start to wonder.”

“Ah.” _Was he blushing? How hadn’t his blood congealed yet?_ “Of course.” Awkwardly trying to warm her up without actually touching her, Cullen led them back to his tent. 

She had their clothes dried and warmed by the time the sun had turned the eastern horizon pink. Hoping that no one was watching, she came out of the tent. It took everything she had not to creep, instead walking like she had every reason to be in the Commander’s tent this early. Luckily, as far as she could tell, no one was around. She barely passed a soul before sliding into her tent and changing into a fresh, if a bit cooler, robe. It wasn’t too wet, but it certainly wasn’t comfortable. If her small space was bad, she didn’t doubt that the soldiers, many whom shared tents, would be not be happy this morning. Perhaps a regeneration spell? With that thought, she left to start her day.

oOo

As the day and then the weeks wore on, Solona felt more and more awkward about spending the night with Cullen. Logically, she knew that she shouldn’t, beds were hardly a sacred place. Inns frequently squeezed complete strangers into the same room, she and Alistair had to deal with that more than once. But those were strangers, not an old friend. And since Leliana and Zevran were like siblings, that too didn’t bother her, despite the fact that the assassin began most mornings straight-rod ready to go. Cullen was different.

 _But how..._ she wondered as she helped Elena, the woman whose husband had been killed by a demon, with a laundry and then repeatedly a few days later working through a particularly dense report on supply trains in the Commander's tent. 

Cullen was a friend, but there was more to it than that. It wasn’t fraternal, or even close to it. Was it just because he looked a bit like Alistair? _It is possible_ , she supposed, looking at him washed in the shadows of a campfire at Auntie Meribez’s. The Ferelden-man structure was there. But they were such different people it was hard to maintain that thought. Where Alistair was naturally out-going, Cullen was reserved. The Commander took charge and gave orders as naturally as breathing it seemed, while Alistair had to concentrate on being firm. Plus, Cullen was just more worn than Alistair, but perhaps her husband had been better at hiding it.

The bags were still dark.

Maybe it was just because she was looking for it, but the Commander seemed a bit more hesitant around her after the lightning storm. Nothing changed that she could say for sure, but it was little things that made her wonder if she should apologize. It had been a while since her last embarrassing announcement of fault. Cullen would hand her reports to read, but he would make sure their skin didn’t touch or sometimes when they crossed paths in the camp she would have sworn that he saw her but he didn’t react. He could just be embarrassed that she saw him in a weak moment, he was rather prideful. 

Either way, she didn’t have much time to worry. Connor, who Solona introduced as Caleb, needed help adjusting to camp life and Rafon seemed amused at putting the mage who was obviously used to softer living in difficult situations. Several of the refugees got frostbite, which required a long draining healing process in order to repair even the basics. Some afternoons were spent making sure Connor didn’t lack for magical training. He seemed weak in the healing arts so she focused on that. 

About seven weeks after Connor’s arrival, a messenger from Redcliffe arrived at the camp. Due to the chill, Cullen decided that they could receive the message in his tent. Solona followed, curious. 

“Arl Teagan requests the Inquisition’s aid with a dragon problem,” the messenger said, cutting straight to the point. She were young, short brown hair sticking out from her helmet. Solona cast a subtle warming spell on the messenger as she started to shiver. 

“What exactly is this problem?” The Commander asked, barely glancing at Solona.

“Well, ser,” the messenger said, shuffling slightly. “A high dragon is attacking some of the farmsteads near your Dusklight Camp. Since the Inquisition and the Hero are already in the vicinity, the Arl hoped that you would be willing to take care of it.”

“The Arl of Redcliffe is asking us to kill a high dragon?”

“He also told me to inform you he will be sending more supplies to you and trade goods to Skyhold.”

Cullen stared at the woman till her face began to blend into the tent. “That will be all.”

“Ser.” The messenger turned sharply and fled. Solona bit her lip so she didn’t embarrass the woman further by laughing. Nearby, Cullen rested his elbows against his desk, massaging his forehead. “A high dragon,” he muttered, to whom she wasn’t sure.

“May I help?” Solona asked. When he glanced at her from around his hand, she made a circling motion with her fingers, turning them blue with healing magic. A slight smile and a nod and then he was back to figuring out how they were going to deal with a dragon. 

Solona crept around him and cast her spells, moving her palms over his back. She took her time, knowing that he didn’t have anywhere to be for a while. “Do you think our men can handle it?” She asked finally, voice soft. 

“It’s not that,” Cullen said, pressing his knuckles into his eyes. “They are well-trained and won’t flinch from a fight. But… you can’t really prepare soldiers for something like a high dragon. There will be injuries and more than likely, some will die. I had hoped that this mission wouldn’t have any casualties.”

 _The burdens of leadership._ Holding her hands over the space where his neck joined his shoulders, Solona considered his situation then said, “Connor and I will come. And before you say anything against the idea, you will need the healers. Plus, I am pretty sure I’ve helped kill more dragons than anyone else here. You will need that.”

The Commander turned slightly, brown eyes assessing her. “How many?”

“Including the archdemon, four.” It was a large number, considering most people went their entire lives without even seeing a dragon. Maybe she was lucky. _Or not._

“The Arl won’t like this,” Cullen said. Solona smiled. “No. He won’t.” A scar twitched, but he had more self-control than she did. 

“We will leave mid-morning tomorrow. Make sure to pack lyrium potions.” With that, the conversation was done and Solona went back to helping him with reports.

oOo

Auntie Meribez’s niece accepted the loaves of bread and Solona assumed her position next to Cullen at the edge of the camp. The heat of the fire contrasted with the chill behind her and she wrapped her cloak tighter. Despite the weather, it was nice to be surrounded by warm chatter. Connor and Rafon were there as well, talking to some young women, barely past girlhood. _They were all so young…_ Solona turned her head towards Cullen, not wanting them to see her wide smile at their interactions. They deserved some light-hearted enjoyment out of life, especially Connor.

Then the food was ready and for a time, happy chaos reigned. Bowls were passed around and soon the noise diminished as everyone ate. Rafon abandoned Connor to the females and came over, tugging on the hem of his shirt. 

_What was bothering him?_ The young man ran a hand through his short dark hair and stepping around a cousin, sat down next to the mage. He fidgeted, accepted a bowl of warm subsistence, passed it to the cousin, and then sighed. 

“I’m just going to say it. I heard you are going to hunt a dragon and I want to come along.”

_Well, that’s not what I was going to guess._

“You want to hunt a dragon? Are you feeling okay?”

Rafon scowled. “I’m fine.”

Solona stared at him, checking for signs of… anything really. She leaned up against Cullen. “Commander, I’m leaving this up to you.”

Ever serious, the Commander laid his bowl in his lap and studied the young man. “Do you have any skills with a weapon?”

“I have some hunting experience with a bow.”

“Any military training?”

“I’ve watched some…”

“Anything to offer the hunt?”

At this Rafon stiffened. “Of course. I can track, I can hit a moving target, and I know the area.” 

“Will you follow orders?”

“Yes.”

“And if I ordered you to stay behind?”

A grinding of teeth. “I would stay behind.”

Brown eyes stared steadily at the young man searching for things that Solona could only guess at. Finally they shifted to her. “As long as he obeys my orders, he can come.” She bit her lip, watching Cullen’s eyes. Words floated, unsaid, but expressed. Rafon was so young, but… she trusted the templar’s judgement. 

“However,” she added, finally looking back at the would-be soldier. “You have to tell Auntie Meribez.”

For some reason, facing his relative seemed less frightening than a dragon to him. He smiled slightly. “I can handle that.”

“Assuming she allows you to go,” Cullen asserted. “Meet us at the eastern edge of the camp at sunrise tomorrow. Have everything you need packed. We will be moving quickly.”

Rafon nodded and left. Solona waited a moment before asking, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“He seems capable enough. I don’t like putting untrained men into battle, but I’ve seen people like him before. He won’t rest until he’s seen action. I just hope we will be able to help him survive it.”

The dark-haired youth met up with Connor, a grin building on his features. Connor was smart enough to know that this wasn’t the sort of adventure that ended up in legends but he seemed a bit happier as well. Solona sighed, trying to ignore the dread growing in her gut. _They will be safe, they will be safe._ Repetition didn’t mean that it was any more likely to come true so instead she prayed, hoping Alistair had gotten in the good graces with someone up there by this point.

oOo

The morning sun was cold, which she decided was just wrong. The sun should bring heat, or at the very least, the illusion of warmth. She shivered, tucking her cloak around her even more, blocking openings where the chill air could get in. Of course Cullen had decided that they were going to ride most of the way. 

Rafon and Connor were already at the edge of the camp, bags on their shoulders and looking too energetic for this time of the morning. Solona forced herself to breathe, which didn’t help as her throat muscles froze. She just needed to forget about Alistair crying and bleeding to death in front of her last night and she would be back to her cheerful self. Hopefully. 

She had barely started convincing her horse that they should be friends when Cullen ordered everyone up. Solona counted the heads as they climbed onto their animals. Besides herself and the two youths, there were barely two dozen soldiers. She peeked at the golden-haired Commander as he broke into a trot. She hoped he knew what he was doing. 

Sunlight making it impossible to look back, they headed off to slay a dragon.


	18. For Dad, Here's Your Darn Dragon

Solona was glad to be back on her own two feet, but that could only mean one thing. They were getting close to where the dragon had been spotted. She shivered, wishing that they were moving. Cullen had sent several members of their party to scout ahead and now all they had to do was wait and freeze. 

Trying to distract herself, she shuffled over to where the two young men were huddled together. “Are you ready?” she asked, breathe puffing out of her like a small cloud. _I’m a dragon._ Her lips twitched.

“Yes,” Rafon replied instantly, straightening. _He really wanted to be a part of this._ Connor just shrugged, face barely discernable under his thick hood. 

“Just remember, one of the worst things you can do when fighting a dragon is freeze. If it gets bad out there and you don’t know what to do, just keep moving. Run away if you have to. Since you aren’t trained soldiers, neither the Commander nor I expect you to risk your lives.”

Rafon’s face reddened. “We won’t run,” he spat. “Just because we don’t have the experience doesn’t mean that we are cowards.” 

Solona held her hands up, protecting herself from the worst of his embarrassed anger. “That wasn’t what I meant. I just don’t want anyone to die today.” She met Connor’s eyes and he nodded slightly. He would make sure they got out of there if needed. One thing the hardships in his life had taught him was how to follow the rules. She knew she could count on that, if nothing else. 

Something dark shifted in the corner of her eye and she spun, lightning crackling. 

Just a scout. 

Cullen got their report, head bent in a concentrated conference, and then he addressed their small group. 

“Each of you today were chosen for a reason. This is a high dragon we will be facing, but there is not a doubt in my mind that we won’t be triumphant. Just follow orders, stay sharp, and you will be dragon slayers.” The soldiers smiled, light in their eyes already looking forward to the celebratory drinks they would be getting from their comrades, but they were professionals so the change in mood didn’t faze their concentration.

Solona jogged forward to walk next to the Commander as they moved out, leaving their horses behind in the shelter of the trees. “You didn’t need to come yourself, you know. The Inquisition needs its Commander too much to risk letting you die here.”

He snorted. “Now you sound like Leliana. The Inquisition’s people are its heart. I will not ask them to do something I will not do myself.”

She expected as much. “Will you mind if Connor and I use magic to heal you?” 

“No. Do what you need to.” Solona nodded and took up her position at the back of the group with Connor and the archers. 

They passed through a cave, large grey stone dark and cold. The rocks formed odd hexagonal surfaces, like natural pillars. Dim sunlight had them blinking and one of the soldiers who had been scouting pointed ahead.

Just loud enough for everyone to hear, the scout said, “The dragon is asleep on the other side of that rock formation. If we are quiet, we can start attacking before it even wakes up.”

Eyes fully adjusted, Solona took a quick stock of their battleground. They were in a valley of sorts, large stone walls on all sides. Besides the cave they had entered from, there was no other escape route that could be seen besides up the vertical face of uncompassionate rock. The grass was a faded green and the terrain was rugged. _No running then,_ she decided. It would only end in her tripping. Hopefully they wouldn’t need to make a hasty retreat. 

In the center of the valley stood a large rock tower, reaching high into the air. She had seen shorter castles. A dark red tail curled out from around it, twitching in what she hoped was sleep. _There’s the dragon._

Cullen marshaled the troops, few as they were, waving for silence. They crept forward, taking an exceedingly long time to cross the distance that they could have run in less than a minute. The dragon grew larger and larger and more and more real, causing the soldiers, despite their battle experience, to glance uneasy at each other. Solona kept herself calm despite the tremors at the giant reptile that they were about to provoke. _If she looked unaffected, maybe that would help their people stay strong._

They rustled to the side, backs to the wall. The rock tower was to their right and the dragon, unmistakable now, red scales gleaming in the winter sun, was dead ahead. _Dead_ ahead. _Focus, Solona._

Keeping a good distance away, the Commander held up a hand and indicated the mages and archers to be ready. On his mark. 

The archers position their bows, taking aim at the creature so massive that it would take a novice or someone scared to miss and the two mages raised their staffs. The better the first strike, the more likely it was that everyone would survive. _No pressure. Aim for the underbelly and the neck._

The hand fell and the quiet of the valley was shattered by bows twanging and magic striking. Solona’s lightning bolt struck the dragon directly on the head, disorientating it. The creature reared up, flaming everything and together, Solona and Connor covered their people in a barrier, deflecting the damage that happened to come in their direction.

“Stay in your groups!” Cullen yelled and then they were running at the creature, needing to do as much damage as possible before it took to the air. 

Luckily, their initial attack had done enough harm that the dragon’s movements were not as fast as they could have been. Solona kept track of the strikes, easily healing the passing blows it inflicted. Hours of repetition over the last month guided Solona’s streams of mana to Connor with little friction or loss of energy. The younger mage was better at ice spells and with her help, they were able to freeze powerful limbs for precious seconds, giving the soldiers that much more time to strike. 

The Commander, an unfamiliar helm masking his face but not his presence, directed the fight in the midst of it, clean strikes of his sword a testament for over a decade of practice. His continuous lack of sleep didn’t seem to slow him as he dodged blows and thrust his weapon into serpentine flesh, all the while encouraging and ordering his people. 

Solona was just allowing herself cautiously optimistic, casting a small barrier to protect a party of three from the snap of a tail, when the dragon raised its head and screamed, the shrill noise cutting through her brain like a thread on fire. Blinking tears that rapidly cooled on her cheeks, she had half a second to wonder at the noise and curse herself for jinxing them before she heard the squeaks of dragonlings. This high dragon was a mother. 

Despite the sudden change in battle dynamics, Cullen acted quickly, sending three of his melee fighters to defend their backs from the dragonlings, refocusing the rest to deal with the angry parent. Following his lead, Solona yelled at several of their archers in their position to the side of the main fight to help with the little ones, directing Connor to do the same. 

Next to her, Rafon fired arrow after arrow into the disorienting scene of metal and scale. He wasn’t the best archer she had ever seen, but almost every arrow hit one of the enemies somewhere. More importantly, his hands and breathing remained steady, ignoring the crisping heat that snuck through the barriers. Connor was also doing well under the pressure, but as a mage who had survived the Harrowing, that wasn’t overly surprising. 

Solona slammed her staff into the ground, causing an overarching lightning bolt to strike the dragon. She turned the thaumaturge’s weapon to the side and yanked on the dragon’s head with a Gravitation spell, causing the beast to narrowly miss a man. Raising the wood into the air, she threw out a giant wave of healing, stabilizing several people who were starting to slow. They weren’t winning, but since they were all still alive, they hadn’t lost yet either. 

The dragon shook off their attacks and launched itself into the sky with an enormous beat of its wings. The force of the wind knocked Cullen and the other melee fighters off their feet and Solona called to Connor, needing him to help focus their spells. 

Weaving their magical energy into a barrier, the two mages scattered the dragon’s fireball, dismantling it into smaller sparks that the troops could deal with. Three more blasts from the dragon and Solona popped the cork out of one of their few lyrium bottles, downing the blue liquid quickly. Mana levels increased back up to a reasonable level, she helped fry a dragonling. the smell of charred flesh threatening to overturn her stomach.

The mother sensed the death of one of her children and with a roar and the tearing of earth, landed. Her tail whipped around, knocking the men and women back. Sharp white teeth barely missed Cullen... _They needed to end this._

“Con… Caleb, focus on healing! Archers, give me some cover,” Solona shouted, running forward. She stumbled over the uneven terrain as arrows struck the few remaining dragonlings around her. “Cullen!” Keeping his eyes on the massive creature in front of him, the Commander shifted slightly, ready to listen.

“If I distract her, can you and yours take her down?”

The templar darted at the dragon faster than a man wearing that much armor should be able to, using an opening to cut at the creature’s foreleg. “Yes.”

Glad he didn’t bother to point out the problems with her plan, Solona raced to the front of the dragon, gathering mana.

“Over here you… fat lizard!” she yelled as loud as she could. The dragon might not have noticed that, but it did feel the scorching electricity of her Torrent spell. Fiery yellow eyes turned in her direction and ignoring the metal people around her, it stalked towards the mage. 

_Ice wall, lightning, Connor is missing that man… heal. Dragon!_

Solona lunged out of the way, rolling painfully over the rocks. She kept moving, climbing to her feet as the dragon snapped at her, hot rancid breath chasing after her stumbles. There was one good way to survive this and still distract the dragon. It worked before… _she was going to freeze…_

Turning the ground to ice behind her, Solona undid the clasps of her cloak, adrenaline sufficient for her not to feel the immediate cold. A blast of fire to blind the beast and she pulled off her robe swiftly and kicked her boots to the side. _Now that was cold._ Forcing herself to focus on something other than her skin numbing, Solona cast her spell and started running again. _Think like a predator._

Tawny fur sprouted from her skin and she dropped into a loping four-legged sprint, smallclothes ripping. Her tail flagged behind her and a slight mane warmed her neck. _It was good to be fast._ The dragon’s movements seemed slower as Solona ran between scaly legs, clawing and biting as she went. Beastly screams echoed her actions and she leaped over the tail that tried to crush her. 

Metal two legs avoided her as they took advantage of her distraction, striking hard. Solona growled as the dragon stopped paying attention solely to her and using her claws, climbed up the dragon’s back like it was some sort of living tree. _Now she was the star again._

She bit the upper neck, swinging as the creature tried to disengage her. _I’m better than you._ Solona used her powerful jaws to bit harder, enjoying the warm blood that filled her mouth. Distantly, she was aware of the differences between her usual personality and that of the lion’s, but for the moment all she could think of was the hunt.

A particularly large jolt had her spinning through the air, crashing into the stone tower. Pain washed over her, temporarily paralyzing her but she was back on padded paws after a second, panting. _She had to win this. She was… part of a team_ , her human side reminded her as she ran back to join the fray. A human with a mane- _silly two-leg, nothing could match her kind’s glory_ \- led the charge, carving out chunks of vulnerable flesh. Solona shifted between them- _friends, friends_ \- and snarled at a leg that was going after the maned human, biting it. That would show it who the best fighter was.

She rode the limb till with a thunderous crash the dragon collapsed, life’s blood pouring out. Its sole remaining offspring cried but one of the two-legs shot a stick through its neck, ending the noise. Solona continued to claw at the beast for a minute then roared her triumph. She had beaten this overgrown lizard. She was stronger and now everyone knew it. 

Her human side tugged her away from her prize and to some soft not-grass. For some reason, she didn’t want to get blood on it and so carefully picking it up with a tooth, she dragged the long object over to the human with the mane, tripping as her paws stepped on it. The man was especially slow for a two-leg, staring at her. She knew she was amazing but he didn’t need to be so dense. She butted him with her head and pushed the thing with her paw. Finally he understood and grabbed it, holding the object into the air. 

Concentrating on memories of standing upright, her body shrunk. _Still the best._ As her fur disappeared, the cold hit Solona like a physical blow but luckily the human- _no… Cullen_ \- was quick to throw the cloak over her shoulders. Solona pulled it close, shivering. Humans really needed some fur. Her lion self hadn’t even noticed the temperature. 

With fresh eyes she took in the scene. The dragon was a grotesque lump of cut up flesh rather than a glorious carcass and the soldiers looked tired instead of weak. Raising her hand out of her cocoon, Solona managed a simple broad healing spell, strengthening those she could.

“So… you’re a shapeshifter,” Cullen said, purposely not looking at her, cheeks red. He had probably seen more of her than he would have liked. 

“Yes,” Solona responded. _Where had she left her robe and boots? Oh, there they are!_ “Though I am not a very good one. It is very strange, trying to remember to think like a human.”

“I’ve only heard of one other mage performing that kind of magic.”

“Morrigan? She taught me during the Blight. It helped us slay our first dragon. Umm… would you mind…” Solona had her robe in one hand, trying to keep her cloak shut with the other. _How much would this bother him?_ “…holding this up?”

“Oh, of course.” Cullen replied instantly then paused, blushing. “I’ll… um… close my eyes.” Solona took a breath, nodded, trying to mentally prepare herself for the cold. She was shivering already. 

“Alright.” Unclasping her cloak from her neck, she passed the ends to Cullen who raised the wool garment up as a curtain between her and the rest of the soldiers who were surrounding the dragon’s body, amazed at their victory. Every inch of her body was goosebumped or pointed. Sliding the cold cloth over her skin, Solona shivered harder, teeth chattering. The fabric felt rough against her chest and she blushed. Snatching the barrier to the cold from Cullen, she placed it over her shoulders, determined not to lose any more heat. The weight helped, sort of, but her first layer was still freezing from remaining on the ground for a time. Her boots were easier to put one but equally cold.

“Thanks Cullen,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Are you going to be okay?” he asked as they walked back to the group. 

“I’ll bbbbe ffine,” Solona managed. “Ccconnor ccan hhhhelp.” Sure enough when they got closer, Connor took one look at her and cast a heating spell over her. Solona sighed in relief. There were some spells that a mage were not supposed to perform on themselves. She tried to follow those recommendations when she could but often circumstances prevented her. 

“Was anyone seriously injured?” she asked, now able to think about something besides her temperature. Cullen kept an eye on her for a second, assessing, and then apparently content, turned his attention back to his people. 

“They are fine thanks to you and… Caleb. I wouldn’t recommend us going up against another dragon in our current state but we survived this one.” Solona stumbled over some rocks, toes too cold to walk normally and Cullen offered her his arm, which she took. The armor was cool but it quickly warmed with her contact. Not really thinking about it, she rested her head against his shoulder, bumping along with their footsteps. 

There was blood underneath her fingernails and she was pretty certain she had swallowed… something while she was not human. Her stomach wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, rumbling uneasily. To distract herself from throwing up whatever _it_ was, she asked, “What do you think Maxwell is going to do with all the favors Redcliffe owes him?”

The Commander helped her over a particularly rocky stretch. “I honestly don’t know. Continue to play the Game would be my best guess. That’s what the Inquisitor does and is good at. It’s how he managed to form the Inquisition, keep it together, and defeat Corypheus.”

“He wouldn’t be as successful if he wasn’t a good person,” Solona said, disliking that she had to compromise with balance and heat. She lifted the edge of her robe up so she wouldn’t step on it, cold air rushing in.

A soft smile on the templar’s face. “Not that I’m disagreeing, but even bad people can accomplish good things.”

Solona thought of Bhelen and nodded. “But Maxwell is good. He likes to pretend otherwise to protect his image and he is very practical, but when he can, he leans towards helping people and doing the right thing.”

“I’m honestly surprised you would say that after… everything.”

She shrugged. “Even if we don’t agree, I still understand why he made his decisions. He is a Free Marcher and didn’t see the direct devastation of the Blight, thus is less appreciative of Grey Wardens than Fereldens or even Orlesians. He made do with what he had. The world is not black and white, I learned that when I left the Circle. And I’m sorry. You probably didn’t want to hear me ramble.”

“It’s fine.” She shot him a look and the scar quirked. Funny man.

oOo

The camp was relatively quiet when they got back, hardly anyone commenting on the returning dragon slayers. But in the cold, it was easy to restrict your attention to things closest to you. To do anything else took more energy than most people had to commit. 

Rafon was the star of the campfire that night, telling everyone in his calm low voice how they killed the dragon. Surprisingly, he didn’t exaggerate his own role, if anything he diminished it. Solona and the soldiers were the heroes of his tale. When he told of how she removed her clothing to shapeshift, she hid her head in her arms, curling them around her knees. 

Luckily, the jokes on her behalf were kind hearted. “I don’t think you were doing it right. You are supposed to put on more clothing when in battle.” “That must have been quite the distraction.” _It can’t be winter, surely the sun is shining in the middle of summer_ , Solona thought, every inch of her burning. But gradually the jokes faded and she was able to enjoy the simple company of laughing strangers. 

The next morning Connor announced that he and the Redcliffe soldiers had been called back.

“Will you be okay?” Solona asked softly, standing near him so no one would overhear. The young mage smiled grimly. “I still won’t be welcome in the village, if that’s what you are asking.” He paused. “And my mind hasn’t been changed like I know you were trying to do. Mages do belong in the Circles. We are dangerous and need to be watched over. But… we can also help. You did show me that. I may not be that good at healing, but I can do some things for my home. Thank you.”

Solona smiled, tears threatening, and hugged her not-really cousin. “Keep in touch. If you ever need anything…” Finally Connor gave her a real smile, flashing teeth. “I will let you know.”

The troops from Redcliffe left with little ado and the camp felt a emptier for lacking their presence. Solona kept her cloak wrapped tight, watching the horizon where they had disappeared. Then she sighed. 

_Back to work._


	19. Inner Shadows

Solona didn’t want to say she was bored. She firmly believed a quiet life was a good life but… _perhaps there’s a better synonym_. Her skin itched to do something, anything at this point. She wanted to travel, to see something beyond the same faces and scenery, to… live. 

Wake up, bother the sentry, eat some porridge, and work on frostbite wounds. Lunch was a welcome distraction as she tried to figure out what exactly was in the bowl. Occasionally, to break up the monotony, she would search out the widow with the baby and make sure they were doing alright. After lunch she would go back to the healing area till the number of patients or her mana ran low. Then she would usually find Cullen. Even that wasn’t as good of a distraction as it used to be. Winter had slowed everything down and the Commander could easily keep up with his reports without her. Luckily, he didn’t mind if she wasted time in the comforting warmth of his tent. 

The nightly campfires with Auntie Meribez’s family had gone down to once every several days so even that entertainment was gone. Even the occasional letter from Leliana did little to break up the tedium. 

_She really didn’t like winter._

Finally, attempting to memorize the properties of a plant from her Ferelden flora book, Solona’s monotony was interrupted. 

“The Inquisitor is asking us to leave for Skyhold within the week.”

Slightly dizzy from staring at ink so long, Solona glanced up. “What?”

“Apparently we have sufficiently helped these people so the Inquisitor wants us to return.”

“Are we withdrawing all our help?”

“No. Just the two of us and one squad. I see little reason for us to delay so unless you think of a reason for us to do otherwise, we will leave tomorrow afternoon.”

Besides the shock of doing something different, Solona couldn’t think of anything. _She had a lot of good-byes to say._

Several hours later, one of Auntie Meribez’s seemingly never-ending stream of nephews came to the tent with a soldier guide. 

“We are having supper tonight and you are invited,” the boy said, hiding slightly behind thick black bangs. He couldn’t have been more than nine years old. _Too young for this kind of life. Then again, everyone is too young._

“Tell your… aunt… that we will be there. We know the way,” Cullen said, barely looking up from the paper he was reading. The boy nodded and was led out of the tent by the Inquisition soldier. Solona leaned back, resting her book on her lap. 

“So, one last campfire.” Brown eyes met her own. 

“Yes.”

oOo

There was nothing special about this night, Solona knew, but it felt different as she and Cullen made their way through the shamble of tents. The sky was clear and although she could see her breathe, the cold air made her feel alive instead of just freezing like normal. 

“Cullen, do you ever think about the future?”

For some reason, the templar blushed, his cheeks turning a visible pink even in the dim light of the night. _What was he embarrassed about? Did he want to raise nugs or something?_

“I’ve not really thought about it. Or at least in the manner of making plans. I will probably remain in the Inquisition, there is still so much we can accomplish. Some real good in the world. Beyond that…” He looked away.

_Why does this feel so awkward? It was a simple enough question._

“Any woman caught your eye? Little Rutherfords on the way?” Solona attempted to tease him to lighten the situation, however, as the words left her mouth, she felt as if a rock slide of awkwardness had slammed into her. _Of all the things to ask…_ “Unless, of course, that’s not right. Any person caught your eye? Male or female?”

Cullen looked as if he combusted internally, the tents ahead receiving his undivided attention. “Why would you… I mean… No. I’m not… involved with anyone.” At least smoke wasn’t coming out his ears. 

Solona was saved from further word vomits as they came to the familiar campsite. A number of the family members, she still only knew about three-fourths of the names despite the amount of time passing. All the faces were known though. 

Somehow Auntie Meribez had heard about their departure and demanded that they sit by her, ‘the handsome Commander’ at her side. Rafon ended up next to Solona. He was quiet, studying the fire. 

The food was passed out, spiced up by Cullen’s contribution of some sorry-looking carrots. Over two dozen people dug in, still laughing at shared jokes. 

“You are leaving tomorrow,” Rafon said, glaring at the spoon in his hand before taking a hard bite. 

“That’s the plan. The Inquisitor probably doesn’t want to do without his Commander any longer.”

“Uh-huh,” Rafon grunted, unconvinced. _Was everything alright?_

She didn’t have to wait long to find out.

Slamming his bowl down, soaking his hands with the thick soap, Rafon turned to face Solona for the first time of the night. 

“Would you give me a letter of recommendation for the Grey Wardens?”

Slowly setting her own food vessel to the side, Solona placed her hands deliberately on her lap. “Why would you want that? Do you plan on visiting Weisshaupt?”

“I want to become a Grey Warden.”

Solona refused to sigh. She had seen this conversation coming but she had hoped that the fight against the dragon had changed his mind. _Young men rarely think rationally._

“Why would you want to do that?”

Rafon stared at her, dark eyes hard. “They are a group that defends the world. Few orders survived the test of time as honorably as the Wardens. I’m not so foolish to think that I could fight an archdemon but there will always be darkspawn. I am good with a bow as you saw and I am ready to dedicate my life to the Wardens.”

“You don’t know what you are asking.”

“Why do you say that?” Rafon shouted then paused as people looked their way. “Sorry.” The words were a social grace, with little real feeling behind them. The man’s eyes shot daggers at the ground and his hand ran through his hair. “I may be young, but I am not stupid. I know what I am asking and I know what I want. I don’t want to live my life on a farm, watching plants grow and wondering when it is going to rain next. I want to make a difference in the world.”

By the end of his rant, more than one person had turned so their ears were directed towards the two of them. Solona looked down at her supper. No doubt it was cold by now. _Oh, well._ She had lost her appetite anyways. 

“Rafon, I believe you know what you want. But you are making a decision without knowing the consequences. What would your family think about you leaving?”

The youth didn’t even falter. “I would have to leave at some point.”

 _Think rationally. What youth hasn’t wanted adventure? You just need to convince him._ “There are other things you could do,” she said. “I could help you get a guard position at Redcliffe or I’m sure the Inquisition would welcome your help.” But Rafon was already shaking his head. 

“Those are well and good, but the Grey Wardens are better. They affect history, not just protecting a single castle or nation. With them, I could save lives every day.”

“You’re too young to join.”

“You were younger.” 

Solona bit her lip, she was probably several years younger than Rafon when she had gone through the Joining. Finally, she whispered. “You can’t join the Wardens, Rafon. You have too much to live for.”

This, probably for the first time, gave him pause. “I am ready to dedicate my life to—“

“No,” Solona interrupted. “You don’t know what that means. The Grey Wardens will take everything from you. Those of us who became Wardens didn’t have a better option. I would have, at best, been made Tranquil, my husband would have become Templar, and some of us would have been killed for our crimes. By joining the Wardens, we got a second chance.”

“But some join because it is a good cause.”

“Some. Very few. You don’t become a Grey Warden for life, you become a Grey Warden for death. We don’t get a peaceful passing. It is our duty to fight till we are killed and we get little to attach us to life. You will have to give up your family, your chance at a family…” Solona blinked, unable to continue. She stood, dusting off her robes. “I won’t write you a letter, Rafon. There is plenty of good you can do in the world without becoming a Grey Warden.” Then she walked away from the campfire, not even caring what direction she was going in.

She got several moments to compose herself before an all-too-familiar figure joined her. “You should be enjoying the campfire,” she muttered half-heartedly, selfishly glad not to be alone. 

“This is more important,” Cullen said. Then he blinked, looking awkwardly to the side and held out his arms. Solona accepted the hug, burying her face in the soft warm fabric. For the first time in a long while, she got to be held as she struggled with her feelings of helplessness. 

“I’m sorry,” she said as the Commander maneuvered his own cloak so that it covered her as well, enveloping their bodies in a warm casing. Once he was sure that they were not going to freeze, he set his hands carefully on her upper arms, nothing if not proper. 

“What was that?”

_Oh, Cullen. Nothing is ever simple with you, is it?_

“I said, I’m sorry,” she repeated, purposely not looking up. They would be too close and she already was starting to feel jittery. _What was wrong with her?_ “Once again, I’m dragging you into things you probably don’t want to deal with. And no, please don’t deny that. I don’t want you to think I don’t enjoy being a Grey Warden. It is an honor and I don’t regret making the decision to leave the Circle but…”

As before, Solona struggled to find words for the feelings that curled through her like a snake that could change from fiery hot to freezing cold in an instant. “The Wardens are for people with nothing else. You once mentioned a Thom Rainer… Blackwall? He was a good choice for becoming a Grey Warden. Honorable but running from his past. The people I recruited were the same or at the very least, they had no one they could turn to. Rafon… has a family, a life. I don’t want him to give that up to chase after an ideal.”

She shivered despite her temperature being warm. Forgetting how close she was to the templar, she looked up. Their faces couldn’t have been much more than a hand’s length from each other. Too close for friends. 

Disentangling herself from the comforting heat of Cullen’s cloak, Solona took a step back. The air chilled her and she wrapped herself up in her own cloak. It wasn’t even close to as good. “I know Alistair felt he had to tell you about the Calling, so it won’t be necessarily breaking my oaths to tell you that Wardens only have so long to live. About thirty years from the time they join. The taint in our blood makes it almost impossible to bear children and nightmares are just part of what it means to be of the Grey. It is a good life, but not an easy one.”

Cullen stared at her, hands slowly pulling his clothes back to their proper positions. “Why would you tell me this?”

Solona played with her hands, twisting joints. “So you can understand why I don’t want Rafon to join. Why no one who has a good future ahead of them should join. There was a recruit at my Joining, Ser Jory. He was a knight from Redcliffe with a pregnant wife. Duncan was a great man, an amazing Commander of the grey but he… should have never recruited Jory to become one of us, despite his skill. Jory didn’t… pass our Joining ritual and I don’t know what kind of a Warden he would have been but… it would not have been easy for him, living the rest of his life as a Warden. It would have been a miserable life for his wife and child as well.”

She was probably talking too much. No, she was definitely talking too much. “Sorry. Again. Thanks for… listening and well...” _End. Now._ “I should probably get some sleep since we’re… traveling tomorrow. So… good night.” Her hand jerked in a waving motion and she darted off, unable to keep enduring this feeling of… _what was it?_

Her tent was welcomingly cool, exceedingly unhuman. She laid down on her bedroll, the unfeeling cloth soothing that something she couldn’t express. Plucking at her shoes, Solona piled all her blankets on top of her and wrapped herself tight. Sleep wasn’t far away as usual and Alistair lurked in shadows. _She couldn’t find him. Where was he?_ Her chest ached from the search when she woke up, panting. For once, Solona stayed under her covers, hiding her face in her pillow as the pain blossomed.

Her eyes were still hurting when light began to stream through the cracks in the tent and the soldiers shuffled around. She groaned, rolling over. A day of packing and preparing for the long trek back to Skyhold. At least she had Leliana and Zevran to look forward. That was something. 

As expected, the squad of soldiers moved quickly, military discipline doing its part in helping to get their tents tucked nice and neat into wagons and gather the supplies they needed. The Commander didn’t want to rely too heavily on forging or purchasing even if winter was on the downward swing. 

The efficiency of the troops had them ready to go by midmorning, ahead of schedule. Solona said the good-byes she could, she wasn’t able to find Rafon, and climbed up onto a wagon next to the driver. No point starting out the trip by getting sore. There would plenty of time for that. 

Lieutenant Ross saw them off saying formal but heartfelt words of thanks. Refugee children ran around, laughing despite the cold.

Then they were on the move, rolling down the opening that constituted a road in the camp. Solona waved at familiar faces and then they were gone, replaced by jagged hills and bare trees. All too soon the dreariness of travel hit and she started to look for something to occupy herself with. She spent some time chatting with the wagon driver but after three months, she had already gone through the normal avenues of small-talk with the Inquisition soldiers they had brought. 

Next she attempted to read, but even the book Cullen had given her was no longer entertaining. The scenery was more of the same and even if the plant life had been more vibrant, she had figured out the names and properties of everything already. 

_So bored…_

She felt like a fussy child and that image gave her the focus to stay still. Until day two. 

It didn’t take much persuasion to convince one of the soldiers to let her ride their horse. Solona patted its soft nose and it looked for a treat. 

“Be nice to me and I’ll be nice to you,” she whispered to the great beast before sliding one foot into the stir-up and pulling herself up on the horse’s back. Despite the ever-present chill, she could feel the warmth of the horse’s soft skin through her robes. There was a musty smell, not unpleasant, but definitely reassuring. Horses were steady that was certain. _Now to try something less steady._

If she hadn’t been friends or at least good acquaintances with most of the soldiers, they might have snickered at her as she attempted to trot properly. It was all how she held herself, she should use as much energy as the horse. _Or at least that’s what the books said._ Solona’s legs cramped as she tried to control her bouncing. Practice. Practice would make perfect. 

By the sixth day, she had somewhat mastered the trot and was now ready to try something a bit faster. Of course, she probably wouldn’t ever need that skill, but as her experience with the bandits provided, it was good to be prepared. 

Solona took a breath, guiding the horse to the back of their group. The terrain ahead was relatively even and there were very few trees to avoid. It was probably as good of a chance she was going to get. 

“Don’t mind me!” She shouted at the soldiers and then dug her heels into the horse’s side.

The animal pushed off, and for a second she was flying. Then hooves hit the earth and she pounded forward, wind whipping her hair and cloak behind her like a banner. Her bones rattled and tears streamed from her eyes as the landscape blurred.

Luckily, the horse could direct itself better than she could, avoiding the trees, even keeping the stray branches from smacking her in the face. _This was amazing! They were so fast!_ Maybe this was why people loved to race so much. The speed alone…. _Maker, what is that?_

Something- _a log? a corpse?_ \- lay in her path. And her horse wasn’t faltering. “Stop!” Solona yelled, pulling on the reins. _This is not going to end well._ They approached the long dark object and she could feel the powerful muscles gather underneath her. Closer and closer and… airborne. It was different this time, she flew but she was going to fall. 

They hit the ground hard and despite Solona’s white-knuckled grip on the reins, she toppled off the saddle. Her shoulder met the ground first, taking the brunt of the impact and she rolled, slamming into something. _She really needed to learn limits._

Refusing to move, Solona took stock of her condition. Her shoulder hurt, obviously, but besides some aches, nothing seemed to be broken. An easy enough fix then. 

As expected, Cullen and several other soldiers galloped up just as she was getting to her feet, brushing the dirt off her robes. The Commander dismounted, going around his horse to stand in front of her. For a second, she swore he was going to do… something… with his hands, but instead he kept them at his sides, forming half-fists. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. It was a standard question between them, it seemed. Solona pressed lightly on her throbbing shoulder. Closing her eyes she focused and cast the simple healing spell. The pain lessened and she rolled her shoulder, making sure it still moved right. “No damage done.”

 _But where was her horse?_ Solona glanced up, looking for the brown animal. It was nearby, munching on some bare winter grass. At least it hadn’t gone far. She smiled and met Cullen’s eyes. Her heart skittered and she rubbed her shoulder, suddenly and mysterious self-conscious. 

“Well, ride in the wagon for a while at least. No more galloping off.” _Andraste preserve her, was he awkward too? What was getting into them? They were supposed to be mature adults not…_ The thought blanked as her mind refused to continue. 

“Would it be possible for me to walk for a while?”

“You could if you wished.”

She grinned, stretching her legs sounded wonderful. Cullen called out to their small group and their march continued. To Solona’s surprise, the Commander didn’t climb back up onto his horse, instead walking quietly beside her. The soldier she had taken the horse from grabbed the stray animal and pulling them to calm down next to the wagon. 

The day was a grey one, dark clouds keeping the sun from shining too much through. It was an optimistic day by any regards. A cold wind tugged on her clothes, seeking entrance to raise goosebumps on delicate skin. Solona shivered slightly, sneaking a glance at her walking companion. How was it that no matter the weather and the level of exhaustion Cullen always managed to look like a hero stepping out of the pages of one of the fairy tales she used to read? 

Though, she supposed, Maxwell was the Hero. There was no doubt that the Inquisitor had done amazing things but for some reason, Cullen deserved the title too. He always fighting to do what he thought was right. It was destroying him and yet he kept going. His principles drove him to extremes and yet he still managed to create a highly effective military force. 

“You are amazing.” Had she actually said that? The Commander’s steady steps faltered. 

“What?” She had embarrassed him again. Was that just a talent of hers or did he just turn red too easily?

“I mean that… well…” What could she say? “You… do so much and you never seem to get the recognition you deserve.”

The side of his horse suddenly became very interesting. Cullen straightened the reins, pulling a tuft of mane out. “Thank you.” His voice was soft and since he was faced away from her, she could barely hear him. “Cassandra honored me by offering me this position and I like to think I’ve done well with it. We have one of the finest fighting forces in Southern Thedas. Our people are not just capable, they are dedicated to our cause, it’s…” 

Cullen laughed suddenly, “I don’t suppose you wanted a lecture.”

He seemed so bright there, even in the grey of the day. His passion was contagious. She smiled. “Why not? We have the time.”

The sun just kept on shining through that man. “We do indeed.”

The remainder of their trip went better after that. The Commander might be a quieter man but when he talked about the work the Inquisition was doing, he had a lot to say. Solona liked listening to him, he had a reassuring voice. She was sleeping a bit better too, despite being on hard ground.

Skyhold was a sight for sore eyes. The looming walls were a comfort, the itch of ancient magicks soothing. _Home._ It was a strange thought.

Spotting two familiar figures on the wall, Solona urged her horse faster, smiling shyly at Cullen. _Don’t fall in front of everyone._ She rode up to the ancient fortress, entering the shadow of the gateway. Immediately, she felt better. Safe. Sound. Her horse listened to her when she pulled on the reins, slowing.

A figure vaulted down from above while a second slid down the stair railings. The one falling rolled when they hit while the other flipped over the side. They reached Solona just as she landed on the ground, turning her foot to remove it from stir-up. Strong arms grabbed her from behind, yanking her from the saddle. 

Leliana appeared in front of her, appearance mostly covered by her Nightingale regalia. Her brows were drawn together, lips parted. _What was that expression?_

“Go, Zevran.”

“What are you guys—“ Solona began before the words left her as tan arms locked around her body and she started to move. Yelping softly and curling up in the assassin’s grasp, she watched the ground blur underneath her. The rest of the soldiers from the Hinterlands were riding up as she flew across the training yard and up the main steps to the Great Hall. A flash of amused brown eyes and then she was inside.

The elf was serious, angular face tight. _At least no weapons are drawn._

Bright-colored nobles passed by as Zevran darted through the hall and into the gallery. More flights of stairs brought her to the rogues’ room. Disconcertingly, she lost her support and flopped onto the not-very soft bed. It was still better than anything she had felt in over three months so Solona spread out, looking at the elf. His golden hair was pulled back into a tail, giving him a severe look. 

“Hello, Zevran. How was your winter?”

“Cold. I’m not sure how you Fereldens stand it.” Zevran crossed his arms, looking down at the mage in his bed. 

“Technically, we are not in Ferelden,” Solona pointed out, burrowing into a feather pillow. She had missed this. 

“Technically, in a recent agreement, Skyhold is not a part of any nation,” Leliana said, coming into the room and shutting the door. She still looked fierce. “But that is not the point. We are staging an intervention.”

Solona reluctantly sat up, partially leaving the softness of the mattress. “What?”

Leliana pushed the mage’s feet and robes aside, sitting next to her. “I received a report a while back from one of my agents. Apparently you spent a night with our Commander even to the point that you left wearing his clothes. Would you like to explain this?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been struggling how Grey Wardens feel about their organization for a while. Particularly after the events DA:I. Hopefully, the discussion in this chapter isn't too far-fetched.


	20. Musical Moments Part 1: Heart Attacks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a while back I complained about slow builds and how I wanted to just have a montage and get it over with. This chapter and the two that follow it are my version of a montage. 
> 
> Also (because what is a montage without music?) in the notes will be songs that made me think of this fic but may not be related to the chapter at hand. Why? Cause I'm a sap and wanted to share the sugary syrup. There may also be pancakes. Or waffles... 
> 
> 'When You Say Nothing At All' by Alison Krauss  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n3vQ5hfh0Vk

_Surely Skyhold could crumble underneath her at this moment. It was old after all. It could happen._ Solona debated the various spells she could use to get away from the stares of her friends. The weight of them pressed against her, making it hard to breathe. She snatched a pillow, holding it to her chest. It wasn’t much protection but it was enough. 

“You had agents in a refugee camp?” Solona asked, skin too tight against the racing of her heart. 

“But of course. You would be surprised the amount of information I receive from them. But that’s not what we are here to discuss,” Leliana settled into the bed, leaning back onto her hands. 

A fist tightened around her chest, making the organ inside it thud wildly. Someone sighed and a weight dropped down on her other side. 

“You’re going about this all wrong, love. That’s the difference between an assassin and a bard,” Zevran said, wrapping his arm around Solona in a half hug. Unsure of what to make of all this, Solona remained tense, a wooden plank against the never-ending wind. 

Soft lips pressed to the top of her head. She glanced over at the elf who grinned. “Now, how was your trip?”

The ordinariness of the question startled her into relaxing a bit. “We were able to help a lot of people. Do you remember Connor, Leliana? Arl Teagan sent him to help us as well. Oh, and we killed a dragon.” Zevran nodded and Solona ducked her head, biting her lip. They knew this already, she had helped prepare the reports. “Did you have a good couple of months here?” 

The assassin grinned and winked at Leliana. “Of course. You could say they were very… invigorating.” The Chantry sister didn’t even blink at the comment. _I wish I could remain calm like that._

“But… you and the Commander. I can’t say that I didn’t suspect something could happen, but I was betting that it would take place later on,” Zevran continued on, golden eyes almost gleed-like in their brightness.

Leliana sighed. “We are worried about you, Solona. Alistair… hasn’t been gone that long and it seems a bit quick for you to be in a new relationship. Now, if you just need companionship, that’s fine; we are not judging you. Cullen is a good man but a serious one and I doubt he would enter into an… arrangement like this if he didn’t feel something. I don’t want to see either of you hurt.”

Solona hide her face in the pillow, wondering when the floor would finally open up. “Nothing happened.”

Her friends waited, expressions unchanging though some of the unvoiced amusement that had tinged Zevran’s features faded.

“He… The Commander was just being kind. I have this thing with lightning… and there was a storm. He let me hide in his tent till it was over. My robes were wet so he let me borrow something dry until I could cast the right spells on my own stuff. Nothing… happened.” Hopefully they didn’t know too much more. She loved these two but this idea of her and Cullen…

_Andraste give me strength._

Long fingers brushed her arm. “And all those other nights?”

“He… let me help him with his tasks so I wouldn’t have to…” Her words disappeared into a maze of memories and Leliana squeezed her hand. 

“There is no need to say more. I think I understand.” Leliana smiled sadly at Solona. “Take care of yourself. You are more than welcome to spend your nights here if you need to.”

Zevran laughed suddenly, changing the dynamics of the somber atmosphere. Moving almost too quickly for her to track, the assassin hoisted her and the chantry sister up in his arms, swinging them around. “It is like paradise, no? All of us together, rolling beneath the creamy sheets…”

“You…” Leliana began then stopped as Solona let out a quiet laugh. “I’m glad you’re back.”

Solona’s answering smile was almost completely natural, even as her bones groaned at the pressure of the hug. “Me too.”

oOo

Surprisingly, or at least to her, Solona’s life didn’t change much with her arrival at Skyhold. The Inquisitor was working with Josephine and her diplomats to contain a situation that had broken out between Nevarra and the Tevinter Imperium. Cullen and Leliana spent hours in war meetings, offering what advice and assistance they could to keep an all-out war from tearing at Thedas. Since an ex-Warden-Commander had little to do with those nations or with politics in general, the Inquisitor didn’t have the time or energy to figure out a task to set her on. She was on her own.

Several days after getting back, she struggled to carry a tray of goodies up to Cullen’s glowing tower. Icy wind whipped around her, lifting her cloak and removing any chance of keeping whatever heat she had within her body. _Winter should be ending within the month_ , she told her skin as it began to prickle. A particularly large burst of cold air knocked her to the side, feet dragging across the stone. Some liquid splashed over the sides of the small pitcher and Solona juggled the tray, trying to keep the bread-products dry. 

Moving as quickly as she could, she strode up to Cullen’s office and knocked the door with her foot. Several heartbeats later, warm light blanketed her as a golden figure opened the door. 

“Sorry I’m so late,” Solona said as the Commander stepped aside for her. Entering his office was like stepping into a different world, one where everything was safe and comfortable. _If he has holes in his walls, how does he keep it so warm?_ She set the tray on the already clear spot on his desk then rubbed her arms vigorously. Chills shivered her limbs, but the friction helped. 

“It is not a problem.” Cullen gave one of those half smiles he was so good at and moved one of the rolls away from the approaching tea. As Solona rewrapped her cloak around her shoulders to finally warm herself up, he poured the contents of the pitcher into the two cups she had brought. She shook her head when he motioned to the honey and he barely flinched when she brought the liquid back up to a nice steaming temperature. It was almost like they had a routine.

Solona sipped the tea and reveled in the sensation of heat flooding through her system. The remainder of the shivers passed and cradling the cup in her hands, she asked, “How is being back within four solid walls again?”

“Pleasant. There is not nearly as much air flow,” Cullen said, breathing in the fragrance of the beverage before taking a small sip. She laughed softly, eyes moving up to his loft. _How cold was it up there?_

“And are you liking being back at Skyhold?” 

“Huh?” She pulled herself back from wondering about temperature flows in an enclosed space to stare at her friend. His words floated in her memory. “Oh, yes. It is good to see Leliana and Zevran again and I don’t think I will take for granted sleeping on a bed again.”

“They did seem… excited to see you when you arrive. Was everything alright?”

She had been hoping he wouldn’t ask that. Turning the tea cup in the palm of her hand, Solona said, “They just had some questions about reports they were hearing.” _Please don’t ask, please don’t ask._

“What kind of reports?” _Alistair, give me something clever to say._

“They… um…” That conversation could not and should not be repeated, but there was no way she could lie to him. “I would rather not say. It was an embarrassing assumption on their part.”

Luckily, he just seemed confused, but he nodded, not needing to pry. She liked that about him. 

Finishing their drinks, they set to their tasks. Solona had a new book much to her relief, and Cullen had new reports on the impending conflict to catch up on. The couch was significantly more comfortable than anything she had felt while in the Hinterlands and with her cloak wrapped around her, only her hands and nose were slightly chilled. It turned out the Commander’s office was only a good temperature when compared to the outside. 

“Would you like a blanket or… anything?” Brown eyes were staring at her, not really concerned but… warm. Friendly. 

“I’m good. You should really consider getting that hole patched.”

“I’ll get one of our engineers to take a look at it. Though there really isn’t much of a point with winter ending.”

Solona laughed. “The Inquisition has been here how long? Your room is probably the only place that hasn’t been fixed up yet.” 

Cullen flushed, finally taking his eyes off of her and muttered something about liking the fresh air. His blond hair gleamed in the candlelight. Solona’s laugh dwindled into a content smile. _She was happy. Why is that so strange?_

oOo

 _The sky is so blue,_ Solona thought dazedly, staring up at the expanse above. _So clear and beautiful._

“You see, lovely Warden, you need to roll with the blows. Don’t stand your ground.”

“How do you move so fast?” she groaned.

“Skill, good looks, and intelligence,” Zevran replied. “All of which I have in abundance, no?” He grabbed her hand and helped her to a standing position. “Again.”

Solona took a step back, legs unburdened by long robes. To her surprise, pants weren’t even that much colder than her usual attire. She raised her hands into a defensive position. “Ready.”

Zevran rolled his shoulders, grinning fiercely. His golden eyes flickered and she waited. A flash of movement and she spun to the side, hitting something solid. The blueness of the sky wavered as she watched, back once more pressed against the ground. She hadn’t even felt herself move.

“Better. But you have to be one step ahead of me. Remember, you always want to be on top.”

Blushing, Solona struggled to regain her balance, climbing to her feet. The grain of the fence pressed into her hands and she leaned against it. _How many times could she get hit in the head without permanent damage?_

 _At least a few more._ “Ready.”

This time she collected small lightning in her hands, hiding the sparks in curled fingers. Energy tugged her, wanting to be released. Zevran smirked and then he was moving. Solona darted to the side, same as before, hands outstretched. Instead of touching cloth or skin, a force grabbed her wrists, turning them upward. 

“Good try. Now you are thinking,” the elf breathed, face mere inches from her own. They could have tapped noses without even trying. “Just remember, professionals are usually one step ahead.” He kissed her cheek, moving to whisper in her ear. “There are many ways in which you could distract us. Don’t forget that you have a number of weapons at your disposal.”

 _Maker keep me whole._ “Zevran…” Solona looked the other way, focusing on a familiar blond figure putting a squad through their paces. 

“Just keep your options open. I would be devastated if I heard you died because you weren’t willing to flash a little leg to slow a killer down. I would have to rip the one responsible’s hands off then pluck out their eyes, and that would just be messy.” The assassin lowered her wrists back down to their normal positions at her side.

Solona smiled despite the grotesque image presented. “I am surprised anyone is willing to go against me with that threat lurking.”

“Well that’s the idea.” Zevran moved his grip up to her hands, long strong fingers wrapping around hers. He was always so warm. He claimed it was an Antivan thing but she wasn’t convinced. “Life would be so much—“

For the fifth time in so many minutes, Solona’s back hit the ground, breath knocked out of her. Spells formed before she realized the weight on top of her was only Zevran. He was scowling.

Leaping to his feet, the elf started running, disappearing from her view. Hands still pulsating with unused magic, Solona sat up. An arrow shaft was half buried in the grass to her right, a mere foot away. _Had that been there before?_ She shook her head, trying to get rid of the lingering daze and forced herself to a standing position. Cullen was shouting, directing his troops to protect the various high ranking visitors and members of the Inquisition. 

There was just so much commotion. Normal workers scattered, some screaming. _But where was their attacker?_ She searched for long blond hair and saw her friend bounding up the stairs to the battlements, daggers drawn. There was only one figure in that area of the wall. They pulled back their bow, arrow directed at the Antivan. 

White lightning slammed into them, sending the assassin out of her view. _At least Zevran had a better chance now._ She couldn’t see what was happening and took off in the direction of the assassin, magic spiraling in her chest and hands.

“Solona, what’s going on?” Cullen sprinted up next to her, easily keeping pace despite his heavy armor. Behind him half a dozen soldiers clanked in some sort of formation, expressions fierce.

“An Antivan Crow probably.”

“What?”

Solona struggled to speak clearly while she ran. “Zevran failed a job once. The Crows want him dead.” They approached the stairs and Cullen moved in front, somehow drawing his sword while running up the steps. As they reached the top, Solona threw a barrier over them, lightning dancing across her skin. _If Zevran had been hurt…_

“You took your time.” Her eyes moved to where Zevran grinned at the members of the Inquisition, kneeling over an ordinary-looking soldier, blade pressed in between the gap of helmet and armor. “I thought I’d grow old and slightly less-attractive before you showed up.”

“Are you alright?” Solona asked, trying to step around Cullen. The Commander held an arm out, refusing to let her get closer.

“Disappointed that the Crows once again failed to live up to their reputation. If this continues, I don’t know if I will want to be associated with them.” The Crow started to struggle, cursing Zevran but the elf simply smiled and pressed the dagger down harder, drawing blood. The struggling stopped. 

Attention once more visibly on his fellow assassin, Zevran spoke in a low voice that sent a ripple of uneasy down Solona’s back. “Now, back to my question. How did you know I was here?”

“There… were rumors… of a Crow with the Inquisition. It… could only have been you.” The assassin spoke softly, accent tugging at his words. 

Zevran straightened, lugging the would-be-assassin with him. “You’d think after over ten years and dozens of deaths they’d learn that I am not so easily gotten rid of.” He blinked, face smoothing out. “Now that was clever.” The ex-Crow collapsed then, legs buckling beneath him. 

Cullen reacted instantly, charging; his soldiers followed him, weapons raised in various states of readiness. The assassin smirked and placing his hand on the wall, leapt off the battlements. He hit the stair railing and vaulted to the ground below, rolling with the impact. 

“Someone stop that man!” The Commander roared, changing directions in an instant, nearly bowling over some of his soldiers. Solona threw herself to the side as the armored people rushed past, something heavy clipping her arm. Once they were clear, she ran up to her fallen friend, throwing her weight into him to get him onto his back. His normally tan skin was already pale, sweat beading on his forehead. Breath coming in gasps, the elf spoke in a whisper, “Poison… wound… on arm…”

Solona ran her hands down Zevran’s arms, searching. The leather armor was coarse against the soft tips of her fingers, friction heating them. She couldn’t find anything—there! A nick, barely more than a scratch, on his lower left arm. Pulling her dagger from her belt- _it was a good thing Zevran had insisted that they fight fully armored_ \- she cut away at the hardened leather, stripping it back to give herself greater visibility. The wound was swollen, yellow puss surrounding the edge and lingering just under the skin. 

“Calm… you can… do it,” the elf breathed. Solona stopped her inner panic, closing her eyes and wasting precious seconds. She had been muttering ‘you’ll be fine’ over and over again in her panic, an attempt to keep Zevran from worrying even as she worked herself into a frenzy. _If my fright causes me to make a mistake, it could be worse than if I had done nothing._ Trying to project an aura of healing serenity, Solona brushed a piece of damp hair off the elf’s forehead and then raised her hands over the point of entry, trying to figure out exactly what kind of poison it was. 

_Nothing instant… though it could be with such a small wound. It’s swollen and he’s sweating…_ “Zevran, I need you to help me. What are you feeling?”

The crazy elf laughed even as he approached death, a choking sound that had her more anxious than the wound itself. “Poisoned.” Solona cast a light healing spell, hoping that would ease some of the pain and dizziness. “Weak… can’t… feel limbs…”

 _It was cutting off feeling… that narrowed it down a bit._ “Zevran, I am going to try something, but it will hurt. But it should cure you...” The elf’s eyes were closed so she could no longer see how he was feeling. He was waning too fast. She needed to act.

Before he could gasp out a response, Solona started casting, hands tracing complex patterns. Not for the first time, she wished she was a spirit healer. Those mages could accomplish miracles while all she had was mortal knowledge, no wise spirits helping her put the living back together. But that would have to be enough. 

She paused her spells, air coming in quick pants. The corners of her vision had gone grey from the rapid expenditure of mana and already her stream of thoughts had slowed, dog-paddling rather racing.

“Hold on, Zevran,” she breathed and then pressed her fingers into the blood seeping from his arm. Her friend stiffened then his back arched as she started cleansing his blood of toxins. A small high-pitched keen escaped his lips and something trailed down her cheeks. There was just so much blood to work with. _What if she missed some?_

Zevran would die.

Mana draining from her, Solona kept her focus on changing the blood, looking for impurities. The web of veins filled her mind, twisting her in a foreign dance with no rhythm that she could understand. After a lifetime had passed, or perhaps it was only a moment, her spells stopped, only drips of mana left.

The shock of nothingness turned her muscles to jelly, threatening to collapse her. Her thoughts trudged forward and looked for some sort of conclusion. Had she done it? Was… was… Who was? _Zevran…_ Brick-laden eyelids shoved and cajoled their way open.

The elf was still too pale, new sweat cooling on worn skin. His lips had gone almost white, contrasting harshly by a bloody mark on the bottom half and even his normally-robust hair now seemed limp. But as she leaned dangerously forward, the armor over his chest moved ever so slightly.

She had barely enough mana left to light a candle. As relief engulfed her system, Solona took her air in throat-wrenching gasps. She reached out to trace Zevran’s cheekbone, hand shaking. It was cold and still a bit damp, but traces of heat remained.

A second tsunami of relief crashing against her consciousness and she didn’t even bother trying to swim. She sank, bones losing all structure as her head hit Zevran’s stomach. The comforting solid material pressed against her skin, infinitely reassuring amidst the waves of happiness, anxiety, and momentary despair. _He will be fine, he will be fine._

“Zevran!” An Orlesian accent half screamed, half wept. Solona felt rather than saw when Leliana fell down next to her, hands brushing against the mage in their search for any sign of life. Her breathing was desperate as if each one could be her last. A ragged gasp as she found something and the Nightingale appeared, swallowing her friend whole. A calm voice, one that didn’t care either way, spoke. “Will he survive?” 

“Yes. I think I got it before it could… do too much harm,” Solona said into the leather. 

“Was it close?”

“Yes.”

She could hear it as her friend fought for control. She was a professional, she had seen death- she had delivered it- more times than Solona wanted to know, but this was different. She had killed her last love, one that had betrayed her in the worst way possible, now her current one had almost died. _What would she do?_

Hauling her arms through liquid air, Solona sat up and wrapped herself around Leliana. The rogue was still, carved from ice. Tired sparks of fear surfed lackadaisically through Solona’s chest, not quite sure what to pin themselves on. _Please Alistair, convince someone up there to hear me…_ “He will be fine,” she whispered, head resting against the sister’s shoulder. 

“We’ll all be fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	21. Musical Moments Part Two: The Anguish of Friendship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apology in advance for the jerkiness of these two 'moments'. I honestly have no idea what I'm doing.
> 
> For your consideration 'The Last Night' by Skillet  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jP0Ne9aW7UI

Although she knew it was impossible, Solona heard the animal-like screams from the assassin even from her spot in the garden. They echoed in her bones, teased her stomach, and torn her heart into shredded remains. _She needed to be hard like Leliana. This man had tried to kill Zevran, he deserved to_ —a nearby bush served as a well-enough shield from onlookers as she threw up. 

Groaning, Solona went back to her bench, holding her head in her hands. Luckily there were not too many people about, the majority were nobles who seemed to be pretending that she wasn’t even there. Not that she really blamed them, though it would be nice to be acknowledged when the person was only a few feet away. 

Finally, the screaming stopped and she could focus enough to leave the relative solitude of the gardens and their bounty of herbs to enter the Great Hall. She wandered down to the Undercroft where Dagna showed her what she had been working on. It was beautiful and complex and the two debated some of the aspects of the construction before Solona decided that she should stop avoiding her problems and just face Leliana. 

The rogues were in their bedroom.

Leliana looked strangely vulnerable on her bed dressed only in a tunic and leggings, Zevran’s head in her lap. She was stroking his hair and humming softly. Solona didn’t want to think why she must have changed out of her usual attire. The elf’s eyes were closed and his tattoo still stood out too much against his skin, but he seemed peaceful enough. 

Solona slowly walked over to sit next to Leliana, placing Zevran’s legs on her own and starting a light rejuvenating spell with what remained of her mana. Corded muscles softened under her touch as she ran her hands over the armored limbs. 

“Do you need to talk about it?” A voice much like her own asked. 

Leliana’s hands threaded through the blond locks, her thumb pressing against the smooth tendrils. “There is nothing to say.”

 _Oh._ Solona stared down at her fingers, glowing blue in the dim lighting. Then she looked up, eyes meeting her friend’s. What she saw made her magic fail, leaving the only the candles to brighten the suddenly too large room. 

A stranger was wearing Leliana’s face. It wasn’t her friend behind the fair skin and underneath the straight red hair. That was only a mask. The soul behind the eyes told the real story. Someone dark lived inside the rogue’s body. Someone unfeeling, manipulative, and cold, willing to do whatever was necessary to get the job done. This person would never pick out constellations, want a nug as a pet, or even laugh. This was the real Nightingale. 

Whatever emotion appeared in the mage’s brown eyes must have alarmed the stranger for they fled, racing away from the soul’s windows and only leaving clear blue eyes. Leliana’s eyes. The ice that had sprouted in Solona’s chest melted, making her feeling sodden and vulnerable. Varric once mentioned that the sister had changed during their fight with Corypheus but Solona had only glimpsed brief reflections of that, nothing when the two of them were together. But now… _what had happened to her?_

“I should be sorry,” Leliana said, going back to stroking Zevran’s hair and face. “I should be guilty. I just killed a man in one of the most painful ways I know how. But I can’t. There is nothing left to feel.” The rogue’s face didn’t change as she talked, calm despite the devastation she had just wrecked against another human. Solona could have thrown up again, but she swallowed the bile down. This was not about her.

But she didn’t have enough air and struggled to remember how to breathe normally. Leather on sensitive fingers. 

“Are there going to be more assassins?” Solona asked instead of dealing with the thoughts wreaking havoc inside her head. 

“Yes. As long as the Antivan Crows exist, they will haunt his every step.”

“What does that mean for…”

“He will want to leave. Every time he thinks he is putting those he loves for in danger, he disappears. For months… for years…” Lelilana laughed and Solona’s hands clenched automatically. “You know, for being a professional killer, he cares too much. Probably because he has few people to care about. I had hoped… but that doesn’t matter now.”

Gently lifting Zevran’s legs so she could slide out from under them, Solona clambered behind Leliana and circled her arms around her collarbones as she had just a few hours before. Her forehead fit comfortably in a crevice of the sister’s neck. _There had to be something that she…that they could do. The Crows couldn’t like their people being killed so much. Why couldn’t they just forget Zevran existed?_

Knowing there was nothing she could say or do to help Leliana feel better about having her love leave again, Solona held on tight and refused to let go.

oOo

It took a couple days for the assassin to fully recover but once he was healthy, he and the Chantry sister spent a day alone in their room before they walked out together, holding hands. Solona watched them say good-bye, the faded playing card making its rounds. Zevran pressed the colored paper above Leliana’s heart and said something that made emotion flicker across the rogue’s face. 

Then he gave Solona a hug, wishing her well and left, walking down the barren path leading away from Skyhold. His figure became a dark mark in the distance and Solona wondered at the possibility of seeing him again. They lived dangerous lives; nothing was guaranteed. Leliana didn’t say anything to her or anyone else, instead going quietly to the rookery. Her peregrine expression ripped apart Solona’s insides as she disappeared into the shadows of the building. Life would move on. It always did.

But did they want it to?

oOo

“I’m sorry, Hero. The Commander is not to be disturbed.”

Solona blinked at the soldier- _Henry? Or maybe Garret_ \- standing in front of Cullen’s office. “Is everything alright?”

The soldier smiled- _she did know him, but what was his name?_ “Yes, Hero. The Commander just has a lot to do today and asked if I could make sure no one comes to bother him.”

_Cullen always has plenty to work to do. What makes this different?_

“Do you think I could go in?” 

He shifted, moving weight from first one foot and then the other, smile uneasy. “The Commander asked that no one save the Inquisitor enter.” _But the soldier didn’t have the authority to stop her…_ The words lingered between them, and Solona debating her options. She didn’t have any particular business with Cullen but… something about this didn’t feel right. 

“I’m going to check in on Cullen. If he has a problem with that, he can just tell me.” Solona decided out-loud, hoping that she sounded firm. It must have worked because the guard sighed and stepped aside. Maintaining the illusion of authority, she knocked on the dark wooden door and when there was no answer, pushed it open.

It was hard to believe that it was the middle of the day; Cullen’s office was like a black hole that seemed to suck in all light that tried to grace it. A blanket shielded the window and there was not even one candle lit. _How could he see?_

The door swung shut behind her.

“Cullen?” Solona created a small magelight, casting blue light on the office and giving the furniture an eerie appearance. Everything seemed normal, desk neat and orderly with a pile of blankets rumpled over the coach… he wasn’t getting any work done down here. _What was that smell?_ It was so dark her non-vision senses strained to make up the difference.

A low groan came from the coach. “Solona?” 

She moved closer, magelight floating above her hand. Was that… A scruff of shiny blue- _no, that was just the light_ \- hair poked from the ripples of cloth. Sock-covered feet could be seen at the other end. 

“Would you mind… dimming the light?” If she had a book, she wouldn’t be able to make out the words with the amount of light the ball was giving off, but she acquiesced, shrinking the sphere till it was no larger than a pebble. Everything was shadows now. Even her own hands were outlines of themselves. 

The shape of the Commander sighed. “That is… better.” Cloth rustled and familiar features appeared at the edge of the glow. Solona stepped closer and the smell grew stronger. She didn’t want to think on what that stench meant but it persisted. More questions than answers. 

Unbidden, her hand moved to lightly touch Cullen’s forehead. It was warm and damp with sweat. “You’re sick!” She stood, intending to get some help and supplies when a cool hand enclosed around her wrist.

“Wait… don’t…”

“Cullen…” Solona began, crouching down so that her face was directly in front of his. The light followed her so she could make out the thick stubble on his cheeks and the moist looseness of his skin. _She needed to do something… It had to be the lyruim._ He was falling apart. “What can I do?”

Somehow, the ex-templar managed to smile, eyes pinned shut to block out the unforgiving-yet-inconsequential light. “I… will be fine… It usually passes… after a day… or two.” 

Moments passed and the only sound in the dark room was the Commander’s breathing. Solona flexed her fingers, checking the joints. They moved smoothly, nothing stopping them from curling in and then out. Functional.

_Right._

She stood, sharply and after bashing her shins into the box-table and jamming her hands in a drawer, found a pitcher and cup. The bit of water left in it was tepid but something was better than nothing; she didn’t dare use magic around a templar in this state. 

“Can you sit up?”

A sucked-in breathe and Cullen tried, limbs trembling from the sudden exertion. Solona set the containers on a shelf and helped the best she could, hands on his back. They managed to get him to a more upright position resting against the side of the couch. The ex-templar panted and something hardened just below her sternum at the sight of his large and callused but always gentle hands shaking. Throat constricted, it took a second for her remember that she was supposed to be assisting him, not just worrying 

“Drink this,” she murmured, once again taking up the partially-filled cup and holding it to his lips. He opened and she gently poured some liquid in. His throat moved and lowering the cup, she watched to make sure none of the water had gone the wrong way. It was all too easy to choke a patient when trying to help them, especially when they were this weak. 

Thick eyelids parted slowly and Cullen looked at her for the first time that day. Confusion and assurance. Strength and weakness. Courage and timidity. Solona backed away, the complexity of the templar’s expression sending tremors down her own arms. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go too far.” Tightening her grip on the pitcher’s handle, she went to speak to the guard outside Cullen’s door.

oOo

It was fortunate that her work with Cullen had her interacting with the soldiers so much, Solona reflected, trying not to splash the ice water on herself as she climbed the steps to the battlements. It was so much easier to ask a person to do something when you knew their name. 

The guard who might have been Garret was not at the door when she entered, eyes struggling to adjust to the sparse blue light. The door clicked behind her and she walked cautiously forward, wondering what she would hit first. A large shape… the couch. Water ran over the lip of the pitcher, almost freezing her hands. She may have been a bit too excessive with the ice magic. 

“How are you feeling?”

A huff, almost with enough energy to be amused. “Fine.” Her lips jerked, a smile threatening but the situation was serious enough to coerce it back to where it came from. 

“Are you able to lay back down?”

“Up, down, up, down,” the templar breathed and shifting his weight, spread his body over the small couch, feet sticking out the end. Solona slipped a pillow out from where it had been jammed underneath sweaty shoulders and raised it to cushion a heavy head. Her hand lingered in damp curls, tracing invisible designs against his skin. A small low noise of pleasure rumbled from her patient and she barely stopped herself from jerking back, unaware of what she had been doing. _Focus Solona._

Digging in her pockets, she pulled out a handkerchief and dipped it into the pitcher, soaking it before then ringing it out. Cold water still dripped onto her robes and down her arms as she placed the wet cloth across Cullen’s forehead. The man breathed deeply at the radical difference in temperatures but then he soothed, seeming to sink even further into the couch. 

Solona smiled and fished for another handkerchief that she was sure she had with her somewhere.

A knock on the door. 

She glanced at the Commander. He hadn’t moved. As soundlessly as possible, she got back to her feet and crept to the side of the office where the noise had come from. She cracked it open; it was the walkway that led directly to the painted gallery. Garret and a number of soldiers waited outside, a large metal tub positioned between them. 

“Thank you,” Solona said, letting some of her honest gratitude creep into her voice. “You may leave that here. And… if you don’t have anything pressing to do, I would greatly appreciate it if you could get some buckets of hot water from the kitchens. If the head cook gives you a hard time, just say that they are for me. She will understand. Garret, would you mind helping me with something?”

The soldiers nodded at her request and walked smartly off, Garret remaining. _Glad I got that name right._

“Can I trust you not to spread rumors, Garret?”

“Of course, Hero. If you ask me not to repeat it, the words will be forever gone from my vocabulary.”

“I’m glad. First, I need help moving this tub inside. But you must never mention what you see here. Even if it is Leliana or Josephine. You may, of course, tell the Inquisitor if he asks but only if he asks. Same with the Commander.”

Garret stared at her, honest brown Ferelden eyes growing concerned. “We are not doing something that will hurt the Inquisition, are we Hero?”

Solona smiled, trying to ease his anxiety. “No, no. We are helping it. But… the Inquisition might suffer if word got out. I trust you, Garret.”

The weight of that settled over the younger man and he nodded slowly. “I am ready.”

Nudging the office door open, Solona grabbed one edge of the tub. With Garret at the other end, they were just able to lift the massive container off the ground enough as to not make too much noise. It was still a racket and Cullen had pushed himself to a half-sitting position by the time they had gotten it all the way in. 

“What are you…”

Solona pushed him back down, easily overpowering him. The light from the open door let her fully appreciate his discoloration. “It is nothing for you to worry about. Just rest.”

A single eye judged her actions before sliding shut, too weak to truly hinder her. 

“Garret, would you mind gathering a tray of food? Light stuff, bread, maybe some fruit if the cook has any. No meat or cheese.” Footsteps indicated the departure of the soldier and Solona shut the door, casting the room in darkness once more. 

Stumbling through the space, she found the couch, fingers brushing soft cloth. Drawing the magelight closer, she found the second handkerchief and after dipping it into the pitcher, began to clean the templar’s neck and upper chest. 

“That is… quite nice,” Cullen breathed, raising his head so she could get at the skin pressed against the couch.

“I have always thought so,” Solona replied almost as quietly. She traced over the collarbones before stroking up the indent at the base his throat. “It isn’t too cold, is it?”

“No,” he said, voice less than a whisper. Assured she redid his forehead cloth and sat back on her heels. He seemed a bit better, less in pain at least. But that could just be her imagination. He could just be better at hiding it. 

Someone knocked on the door and she soon found herself diverted by emptying buckets of water into the tub and giving the now empty buckets back to the soldiers she had recruited, making sure to limit Cullen’s exposure as much as she could. The three men and one woman didn’t question her strangeness, simply taking their pails and going to get some more water. Solona smiled as she watched them descend the stairs. _Maxwell better appreciate them. He has a bunch of good people under his command._

A few more trips had the tub decently filled with water, although it had dropped to barely room-temperature. The air outside was still cold enough to pull away any heat from any source it could find. Unless she could start a massive fire in the middle of Cullen’s office- _probably a bad idea. It might burn up his reports. Wait, no. That is definitely a bad idea._ \- she would have to use magic to bring it back up.

 _Hopefully it won’t bother him too much._ The Commander looked less like he was going to pass out and more like he was simply exhausted.

Yet another disturbance outside the room had Solona wearily opening the door for what felt like the fiftieth time. Garret smiled at her, a bit sheepish, lips red and hair mussed.

“Sorry it took so long. One of the assistants was just finishing up with a batch of rolls for tomorrow and she told me to wait.”

Solona took the tray, awkwardly balancing it. “Thank her for me. Did you know there are some wild flowers growing in the south-west corner of the garden? I’m sure no one would mind if you got took of them. Anyways, will you be here for much longer?”

“I was instructed to keep people from entering till nightfall.”

 _Oh, Cullen…._ Solona sighed. “Very well. I may ask for your assistance later with a small matter if you’re still around. Thank you for all you’ve done so far.” Garret nodded, still blushing from her earlier suggestion and went back to his position half in front of the door. 

Mostly confident that they weren’t going to get disturbed any time in the foreseeable future, Solona enlarged the magelight to the size of a small apple and raised it so that it was almost touching the planks of the loft. It barely illuminated more than before but it was better. 

“Cullen,” she whispered. “Do you think you could get some food down or at least some more water?”

“Maybe.” The templar cracked open an eye and with arms that barely hold his weight, pulled himself back up to a sitting position. Eyes strangely dark, he looked around the room. “I was a bit out of it for a while there. You brought up a bath?”

Focusing entirely on not splashing herself, Solona handed him the cup still half-full with undescriptive water. “I thought it might feel good. The soldier outside, Garret, won’t tell anyone if you’d like some assistance getting in.”

The Commander laughed softly, startling her out of her sudden shyness. His half-smile brought it back all too quickly. “I think I can bath myself. Thank you, Solona. It is a kind thought.”

She fluttered, hands roaming with nothing to occupy them, eyes fastened on the cup as he drank. “Are you feeling better?”

Cullen gave her back the now-empty cup. “Yes. The worst bits come and go. How much of the day has pasted?”

“It’s early evening.”

He frowned, thoughtful. “That much? It didn’t…” Trailing off, Cullen stared up at the glowing magelight. His skin was less shiny than it had been just an hour before, it fit him better. But it was hard to tell how pale he was with the blue light. One thing was for sure, he wasn’t fully recovered.

Solona stood, pacing over to where she had set down the tray of food goods. It wasn’t very evenly balanced and she swayed slightly as she picked it up. The plate of cheese slid dangerously to the side and she had to tilt the tray in an attempt to make up. That, of course, caused the bread to start to skid _and now the dried fruit is on the move_.

Something caught on her foot and she tripped, unable to catch herself in the dark. Her outstretched knee hit the ground first, a quick flash of pain alerting her to its protests. One hand darted out instinctively to steady herself and that’s when the tray was doomed. It hit the ground hard enough to make her wince at the noise. Bread scattered across the floor and bits of cheese and fruit rolled around, some ducking beneath the couch. 

She would have stared aghast at the mess but something started to soak her boats. Quickly, she yanked her feet back as a puddle of water from the overturned pitcher made its slow march across the floor towards her. 

A knock and the front door cracked open. 

“Is everything alright in here, Hero?”

Solona found herself speaking. “We’re fine, Garret. Thank you for checking.” The door shut.

Cullen had to be watching but she couldn’t force herself to look, instead picking up the pieces of food and putting it on the cracked clay cheese plate. “Sorry about that. I should have paid more attention to where I was going. Some of it should still be good.”

Taking a half-loaf of bread, she passed it to where she believed his hands to be. Warm fingers brushed her own and the bread was taken from her. “Thank you.” Solona hide her blush by continuing to clean up her mess, knees disagreeing with her continuing to put weight on them. 

“Are you actually hungry or are you eating because you can?” Solona asked, the healer in her needing to know.

Cullen broke off a piece of the bread before slipping it into his mouth. He chewed carefully before swallowing. “I can’t tell yet. It tastes good though.” Solona smiled, tentative relief poking through her wall of professionalism. She watched eat a bit more before she was assured nothing bad was going to happen and she took back her handkerchiefs to try to clean up the water on the floor. 

“You didn’t have to take care of me,” Cullen said finally. She turned to look at him, in the midst of trying to keep from pushing the liquid under coach. “I would have been fine by tomorrow.”

The cloth wipe soaked her fingers, liquid running through them like so much rain. 

“I know I don’t have to, but no one should go through hardship alone. You were always there for me. Although I wish it wasn’t an option, I am glad to help you in any way I can.” 

Something shifted in the templar’s face, changing angles in the gloom. _But what was it?_ His expression remained virtually the same but the feeling she got off him was no longer what it had been. “Thank you, Solona.” His smooth voice was warm, making her think of strong safe arms curling around her at the end of a long day. She blushed abruptly and stood. 

“But you seem to be doing fine, so I probably shouldn’t be bothering you anymore.” She started walking towards the door that led to the gallery. _What would Leliana be doing at this time of the day?_

“Wait… I didn’t mean to—“

Cullen’s voice cut off abruptly as he retched. Solona was rushing back to him before she could even think about what she was doing. Hand on his head, she stroked the curls back even as he gasped at the floor, liquid and recently eaten bread lying in a grotesque clump on the floor. For the first time, she was glad that she couldn’t see very well. 

“Oh, Cullen… what did the templars do to you?” Solona asked, more to herself than to the man who looked as if a toddler with a large stick could knock him down. 

“They took a farmer’s son and made him into a person who could lead armies,” Cullen said, eyes shut as he continued to lean forward, waiting to see if anything else was coming up. “They may have been misdirected the last few years, and perhaps even before that, but their mission is been an honorable one. They seek to—“ Solona’s hand on his cheek quieted him. She leaned forward to brush his skin, the smell wafting off his mouth barely registering in her consciousness. 

“Shh… I know, I know. But we can discuss this at another time. Right now you need to rest.” Her fingers traced his cheekbones before curling down his jaw line. When she pulled away, his head followed her forward for a second before he regained control of his body. “Right.

It was a testament to how horrible he must have been feeling that he didn’t even argue, body leaning back to put its weight on the spine of the coach, head drifting to rest upwards on the top.

Solona tightened her lips, previous relief tumbling down to a pit in her stomach leaving only anxiety and worry churning in its place. Her hands, bereft of warm skin, stretched out and lingered over the handkerchief she had been using to mop up the water. It would work as well as anything else. 

Gut wanting to spill its contents at the sight of the mess, Solona quickly cleaned up what she could, mentally placing these handkerchiefs in the fire pit. Not soon enough, the task was complete, even as the stench remained. Ever so carefully, she set the contaminated cloth in a corner near a door and wiped her hands off on the cloak she had left near his desk. 

Cullen still hadn’t moved when she went back to him. She waited unsure, searching for some sort of divine sign of what to do next. After a while it became clear that it was just her. 

Breathe escaping in a sigh, Solona carefully stepped over the glinting damp spots of the floor, shimmering in the dim light. Relieved that her balance hadn’t betrayed her again, she sat down next to Cullen, warm legs brushing against together. 

He barely seemed to notice she was there. 

Solona watched, still hopeful for inspiration. Nothing was forthcoming so she instead relied on her own instincts, right hand reaching up to stroke his hair. Cullen groaned softly and without even realizing it, sank down to rest his head in her lap, feet curling in an attempt to squeeze onto the couch. 

“Cullen?” Her hand continued the movement even as the rest of her froze. _He… Cullen… intimate…_ The man sighed in response, head nuzzling her thigh. Solona felt her face heat and she had to look away into the gloom. It was one thing to do this with Leliana, another entirely with the Commander of the Inquisition.

 _Why?_  
She ignored the thought, instead forcing herself to let the air she had been holding out slowly. Cullen was her friend and he was in pain. Surely there was nothing wrong with her helping her. Nothing untoward. _Surely._

With this in mind, Solona began her ministrations again, left hand taking up the right’s job at his head, giving the other the freedom to trace down his side and back. Hoping it wouldn’t aggravate his headache, she began to hum a simple tune, untrained voice alleviating the oppressing silence of the sick room. Cullen’s breathing steadied and her heart ended its sprint. 

_This was… almost perfect._ With a twist of her hand, Solona turned off the magelight.


	22. Musical Moments Part Three: A Breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I may break a rule of writing in this one, temporarily changing the established pov. You can thank Natalie.  
> "To be honest, I know it is too much to ask for, but I'd really like to take a peek into Cullen's head."
> 
> But for her defense, I was in a severe writer's block at the time and that suggestion really helped. So thanks Natalie!
> 
> Song for this one: Way Back into Love by ?? (not me at any rate)  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cbYGomf2BEU

Solona blinked in the darkness, not sure of where she was. _Had she gone to bed last night?_ No… there was no memory of that. _Then where?..._

Something splashed and she could just make out a human shape in front of a… tub? _Danger._ Sitting up, she created a fireball, sudden light blinding.

Several sights greeted her at once and she found her mouth dangling open as she attempted to figure out exactly what she should do. The person-shape was Cullen, she probably should have realized that sooner. Outlines of the rest of the space reveled she was still in his office. But that wasn’t the thing that had her attention.

The templar was shirtless.

Even in the flickering light of the small fire, he was magnificent. His day of sickness hadn’t affected his physical appearance. Bumps and ridges and shoulders… She began to feel light-headed, blood pooling in her face.

The heat on her fingertips turned to pain and Solona quickly extinguished the flame, casting the room into darkness once more. She could hear her heart quite clearly and her small gasps of air as she tried to calm herself, room all too warm. The image of _Cullen_ had embedded itself in her head and her hands ached, wanting to…

Her mind blanked.

“Are… are you alright?” It had been a long time since she had last heard him stutter, probably back in the Hinterlands. When was that anyways? Almost two months now…

Had she responded yet?

“Umm… yes. Sorry, I… was a bit confused.”

An escape of air and she could almost see his hand move to massage the back of his neck. “I… see.”

Solona laughed, spending nervous energy only to find it increase with the awkward sound. “Yeah, well… how are you feeling today?”

“Much better, thank you.”

Silence.

_Maker’s breathe, Solona. He is not the first shirtless man you’ve seen since… Alistair died. Just because he’s Cullen, doesn’t mean it’s any different._

_Yes it does._

She ignored the small voice, knowing that all the foundations she had been building over the last several months would crumble if she listened to it. Her hand gripped cloth and she paused. It was too soft to be her robe. The thought clicked. Cullen had given her a blanket. Her face reheated and she pulled the blanket up to her chin, curling the fabric around the rest of her body.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stay the night.”

Again, it was too easy to imagine his lips pulling into a half smile as he said, “It is fine. After everything you did yesterday, giving up my couch is the least I can do to repay you.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Solona said into the blanket. Despite the muffling, Cullen must have heard her because he laughed softly and water splashed again, hitting skin. Solona kept her face in the cloth as he cleaned himself up. There was no way that she was going to intrude on his privacy again, even accidentally.

Some shuffling around the room and a thump, followed by a soft curse. “I am dressed now if you want to give us something to see by.”

“Right.” Hands cupped, she cast her spells, making another ball of light which she expanded to the size of a melon. This one was yellow, giving the room a cheerful glow. The Commander was standing several paces away from the metal tub, face freshly washed, shirt on. He still looked too good. Solona focused on sending the globe to the ceiling, evening out the shadows.

Like a rock thrown falls back to earth, her eyes went back to golden templar. He was just too… the bibliophile couldn’t think of a word that accurately described Cullen. The comparison to his appearance the day previous was striking.

“Please tell that that’s as worse as it gets.” Her voice came out in a whisper, scratchy and barely recognizable.

He didn’t need to ask what she was talking about.

Cullen sighed, drying his face off with a small towel. “There are better days and there are worse. The worse were near the beginning. The pain made it impossible to sleep, think, even move sometimes.”

Solona traced the veins of her hands, picking up long-forgotten memories. “During the Blight, we found a templar in Rendon Howe’s estate who had been denied lyrium for days. He… I hate to think what you must have gone through if that was a measure of your pains.”

Footsteps in a quiet room and a shadow darkened her hand. Cullen knelt in front of her, face close-too close-to hers. “It is nothing for you to worry over. I have been without lyrium for over a year now. The worse is behind me. If days like yesterday are what I have to go through in order to cut my leash to the Chantry, I will gladly pay that price.”

 _Brave, strong Cullen. He was always resolute in his beliefs._ Solona shook her head, eyes closed and then, opening them, met his gaze. The intimacy of their setting finally seemed to reach him and even in the shadows of his face, she could see him blush. She grabbed his jaw to keep him from looking away, internally jerking at the contact.

“Promise me that you won’t insist on going through this alone.”

“W..what? Yo…you…”

“No, Cullen. If you expect me to continue to go along with this after yesterday, you need to let me, or someone, in. You may say that you can do this on your own but everyone needs a person they can rely on.”

The man had the pride to argue. “Cassandra was to…”

“The Divine is not here in Skyhold. The Inquisitor, while being a kind man, is your leader and thus I know you will not confide in him. Pick someone, Cullen. Anyone. Just don’t do this alone.”

Brown eyes attempted to melt her but she refused their charms, standing firm. Finally Cullen laughed, low and honest. “Fine. I will consider talking to someone. But I don’t think it is necessary.”

Solona retracted her hand from his face where it had shifted to cupping the prickling skin of his cheek. “It is, but I will take it. Thank you.”

“Not a problem.”

oOo

The day’s headache had started tame enough, a baby druffalo grazing at the back of his skull. But as Knight-Captain Rylen gave his report, a pack of wolves discovered the hapless creature and proceeded to rage around the confines of his mind, tearing it to shreds. When the Inquisitor had taken over the keep in the Western Approach, had he realized the complete pain it would be to supply it? Despite the Inquisition’s hard won reputation of protecting those who came to trade with it, no sane merchant was willing to travel across burning desert and deal with quillbacks. _As for the less sane ones…_

“How much of the keep was destroyed by the man’s grenades?” Cullen asked, massaging his temples.

“A few barracks, a guard building, and part of the main gate, though the last one was already starting to be repaired when I left,” Rylen replied smoothly, pausing as a soldier saluted to them as they passed. Cullen nodded to the man and they continued their walk around the edge of Skyhold. “By now, it should be able to withstand anything but a dragon and an army.”

“Or a dwarf with grenades,” Cullen commented pointedly.

“Uhh… yes, Commander.”

Another pair of soldiers stopped their patrol to salute and automatically Cullen noticed how the shorter one’s lines were a little sloppy, hand half-closed, feet apart. Before he could say anything, Rylen spoke.

“Are we playing war in your mother’s backyard? Is that a how you greet the Commander? By the Maker, would you want the Inquisitor to see such grotesque forms?”

The two paled, both glancing down at their and then their companion’s position. The errors were corrected. “No, ser!”

“Now that is a proper salute. Back to work soldiers!” Rylen bellowed and moving as one, the two guards marched off, points of their helmets bobbing. At a much more moderate tone, to Cullen’s silent relief, Rylen asked, “We still getting new recruits?”

The wolf pack gained another member. “Every week,” Cullen said, remembering that he was to help with training this afternoon. The Inquisition was large enough he didn’t need to work with everyone, but he thought it was a good practice for the men and women he commanded to see him amongst them, even if it was just giving orders.

“I don’t envy you Commander,” Rylen said as they walked through one of the towers. Entering the elements once more, the Knight-Captain added, “But then again, perhaps I do.”

Cullen followed his gaze to a small figure struggling with her cloak some distance away. Jaw setting, he glared at Rylen. The man simple grinned, completely breaking protocol with a wink, and with a fist across his heart, marched off to the nearby set of stairs for some much-deserved rest. Cullen watched him go, still controlling his anger at the implications. Soldiers were worse than middle-aged housewives when it came to gossip but for Rylen to know that much after being away for over six months…

Muttering, the Commander allowed himself to walk towards the woman who had managed to hold on to her cloak but was now trying to get her long brown hair out of her face. She kept turning, which would then whip it all back into her mouth and eyes, effectively masking her.

Against his own foul mood and pain in his head, Cullen smiled. “Mind if I help you with that?

Solona jumped, eyes wide as she seemed to finally see him. “Cullen! I…” She blushed, looking away. But it was the wrong way to go and once again she got a mouthful of hair for her trouble. Spitting the tendrils out, she laughed.

“Did you suddenly develop the power to control the wind?”

The druffalo was still tearing around, but some of the wolves had gone in search of better prey.

“No, but as you know, I do have sisters.” Ever so carefully, he came closer to her and at her nod, placed his hand against her nose, moving upward. Her skin was cool, but soft against his too large, too rough hands. She seemed so fragile, like a glass figure his mother had once owned until he and his brother had tripped and sent it smashing to the ground.

Gathering the wisps of hair in between his fingers, he pulled them to the side and then repeated the gesture with the other side of her face, ignoring the fluttering in his lower gut. He was far too old to act like a simple village boy, if anything the templars had taught him it was how to control himself. Pulling the hair gently behind her head, he asked if she had a tie of some sort.

Her face when she looked up at him pushed all thoughts of templar control. Not for the first time he reminded himself that she was grieving widow as well as a friend. He didn’t have so many friends that he could sacrifice one simply to suit his imagined possibilities.

Only when her cheeks colored did he realize that he had been staring. Whatever his reaction was, it made her smile and she dug in her pockets, brown eyes ceasing to draw him in.

“I think I got it,” Solona said, finding what she was looking for. When her hand was firmly around hair, cloak set loose, Cullen let go and stepped back, creating space that he so desperately needed in order to organize his thoughts.

 _Pull yourself together,_ he ordered himself, taking a single breath. It was amazing how often she made him feel like a templar fresh from his vigil, standing guard as a young mage ignored all the lines that were apparent to everyone but her, welcoming him to the Ferelden Circle. So much had changed since then.

And so much hadn’t.

“Cullen?” His eyes shot open, air escaping in a short puff. He hadn’t even noticed that… She was close, watching him with concerned eyes. “Are you alright?”

His smile came on its own accord, the ever-present druffalo calf of pain and pressure almost pleasant in comparison of what had preceded it. “I am better out here in the open air.” He swallowed back the ‘with you’. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

He really needed to do something about those rumors. It would surely hurt her if she heard them. _Perhaps Rylen would know where to begin. Or maybe Leliana…. No, not the Nightingale._

“It does help, doesn’t it?” Solona was saying, leaning against the wall and looking down at the distance below. The memory of her falling from the wall only several lengths from this very spot made him want to grab her, _keep her safe_ , but he buried his hands in his own cloak, joining her against the ledge.

“—surely Maxwell would agree, don’t you think?”

He had missed what she was saying. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

Of course that concerned her, hand a light but persistent weight on his arm. Her eyes assessed him, lips pressed in a frown, ever the healer. Confident that his earlier words were still accurate, she pulled away, once again studying the landscape. “I was… wondering if you thought you would be seeing your family any time soon.”

Cullen blinked. _What?_

“Wh…why do you ask?”

She smiled at him, although it didn’t quite make it to her eyes. “Haven’t you been playing with Mia’s letter for the last few weeks?”

The mountains were suddenly very interesting. _Of course she had noticed._ Although her focus on the complex reports was indomitable, the evenings and nights that she spent making sure he didn’t overwork himself would give her able opportunity to witness his indecision.

“What makes you think that it is from my sister?”

For some reason, that made her laugh. He would never understand females, no matter how much his sisters had taught him.

“Simple. The handwriting was clearly feminine and if it was anything related to the Inquisition you would have answered sooner.”

“Ah,” Cullen articulated, reached back to make sure his head was still connected to his spine. When she put it that way it seemed quite basic. _There goes my aura of mysteriousness._ “I haven’t decided yet. She does have her family and Skyhold isn’t really a place for children.”

Despite the fact there were a number of little people, humans, elves, and even the occasional dwarf, who called Skyhold their playground, Solona didn’t contest his reasoning. “Then why don’t you go to see her?”

 _How does she make it seem so straight-forward?_ “It’s more complex than that.”

At this, the Hero of Ferelden shook her head, almost to herself, and spun on him, barely keeping her balance. “Cullen, I know you might try to talk yourself out of it, but will you listen to me for a second?

“I know this will sound self-centered and yet… I never knew my family. I had to find the people who accepted me whole-heartedly. And that is hard Cullen. So very hard. And you can lose them, so very easily. It… darkens the world not to have your family in it.”

The woman who had stopped the Fifth Blight blinked hard, clearly struggling not to break down. Cullen wasn’t sure if he should give her a hug or let her continue talking. “If your sister is anything like you described her to be, she wants to be a part of your life. You… just…” Giving in to his instincts, he pulled the mage in, her small body disappearing amidst armored limbs. A soldier walked by and he tried unsuccessfully not to get embarrassed.

_This is more important. He could deal with the rumors later._

This didn’t help his face stay the same color but it was enough to keep him from pulling away as Solona sobbed into his chest. Ever so carefully, he led her to the side to the relative shelter of the nearby tower.

“Everyone out!” he ordered, scattering the few people who were inside. The silence was deafening against the small noises coming from the women against him. Partially picking her up to keep her from the inevitable fall, Cullen moved Solona so that she was sitting on a box in the corner. Her hands fumbled on the armor plating on his arms, trying to keep him close and then she blushed, instead wiping at the streaks on her cheeks.

Trying to give her some privacy, Cullen stood and looked away, automatically crossing his arms behind his back in a parade rest position. His heart settled into a normal rhythm and the pain in his head was hardly noticeable. He did wonder about that. Being around Solona wasn’t a cure-all, but she somehow both numbed some feelings and made him increasingly aware of others.

He sighed, following the familiar train of thought to its inescapable conclusion. It was a thought that had been nagging him ever since he saw her dance in the Hinterlands. That image haunted his dreams, waking him with a cold sweat, uncomfortably hot and wanting. _Maybe Varric was right. He did need a hobby._

Solona stood, wobbly, and he automatically offered her his arm which she took with a small smile, eyes rimmed in red. She looked tired and sad, but not depressed.

“Do you think my time is well-spent in Skyhold?”

 _Where…?_ “Yes, of course,” Cullen answered without another thought. It was hard to imagine walking through the fortress and not seeing her chasing children, talking to soldiers, or invading his office with small gestures to try to make him feel better.

Her lips struggled to stay in line. “You don’t really change, do you Cullen? A rock while Thedas is shaken to its core.” She laughed at something even as Cullen tried to wrap his mind around the thought of her thinking him the same. He had made so many mistakes, and people had suffered for them. Meredith’s fall was only the crown on a mountain of missteps.

“The Inquisition is blessed to have you,” Solona said, playing with the tail of her hair. She leaned against him and finally met his eyes. Cullen lost his thoughts.

She breathed. He breathed.

The moment stretched like a spell, straining against its limits, becoming thin. He knew it could only be his imagination but he swore he could feel the air warmed from her lungs brushing his skin. The quiet was ruined as a thudding started up in his head. His heart beat.

Then she blinked, cheeks coloring. “I’m glad you are feeling better, Cullen. I… should see what Leliana is up to.”

She half-ran off, stumbling over a loose plank left on the ground. The door slammed behind her, pushed by the wind. Echoes of the sound reverberated through the near-empty room, tickling the air.

Cullen closed his eyes. And he breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading!


	23. Past and Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse me while I pretend there is more going on in this story than just Solona/Cullen interactions (it's a complete lie of course but let me have my illusions)

As expected, Leliana was engaged in Nightingale business. Solona watched her work for a while, sitting on one of the boxes that she always wondered about whenever she came up to the rookery. Surely it couldn’t be bird-feed, but what else would they need? 

Usually she ended her thoughts there. She didn’t want to know.

Tired of watching Leliana study papers, Solona left, walking down the rounding stairs, past the library, and into the Great Hall. With spring’s gradual melting of the snow in the passes, more dignitaries were beginning to gather, passing power, connections, and massive sums of gold between each other like so many playing cards. Skyhold was slowly become the center of these activities in Southern Thedas. _What did Celene and Anora have to say about that?_ Solona wondered. 

Josephine was not in her office, but when pressed, a soldier gave her directions on she could find the Inquisitor. 

The stable was quiet, most of the horses still gone to greener areas for the winter. Solona entered the dark building, sneezing as the combination of straw and manure entered her nose. 

“I suppose it was too much to ask for an hour of peace,” a low male voice muttered from one of the stalls. She walked closer, stepping carefully over a fallen brush.

The leader of the one of the most powerful organizations in Thedas, the person who had fought and killed a would-be god, was mucking out the stable. 

“You are a Hero. Despite what we may wish, the world isn’t just going to forget about us.” 

Maxwell snorted, scooping some horse refuse into a bucket. “I don’t think I’d like it if they did, but sometimes it is nice to-- well…” For the first time since she had met him, the man wasn’t surrounded by carefully prepared words. “What do you want, Solona?”

“I was just going to see if you had any more jobs for me,” Solona said, leaning against the open stall door. “Though if you want, I can take care of that with a spell.”

Sweeping black bangs out of his eyes with the back of his wrist, Maxwell shook his head. “Someone once reminded me that people need to see that I’m just like everyone else despite this mark on my hand. She was wrong about many things, but she was right about this. Besides, sometimes it is nice to do something that doesn’t involved the Game. But I don’t really have anything for you right now. Perhaps once the roads become clearer…”

Solona went to a nearby wall and grabbed the Inquisitor another bucket. He nodded his thanks as he balanced more materials into the full first bucket and then moved to the next stall, guiding the horse out to be tied up at a post. “How about sending me to Amaranthine?”

Gloved hands paused their dirty task, the shovel scratching the floor. “And why would I do that?”

The mage clasped at her wrist behind her back. Maxwell’s friendly tone had cooled, a grey stormfront in a cloudless blue sky. _This could go bad fast._ “After Ostagar and you sending away all the Wardens of Orlais, very few of the Grey still exist in Southern Thedas. I know you don’t think much of them, but it couldn’t hurt for me to check up on the Warden-Commander. He is an old friend, and it could smooth the way towards a potential alliance if you ever changed your mind. If nothing else, you will lose little in the venture and gain knowledge on any darkspawn activities in Ferelden.”

Dark eyes watched hers for the course of her argument, never wavering. She had no idea if she was convincing him or not. 

The powerful gaze left her, moving to keep an eye on the motion of scooping a shovelful of horse excrement. “Fine. I accept your premise. You have my leave to go.”

 _She did?_ Solona’s relief came out in a wide smile. “Thank you, Inquisitor. I appreciate it.” Maybe some time away from Skyhold would help clear her thoughts. At the very least, it couldn’t hurt.

Thanking Maxwell again, Solona went off to tell Leliana the news. 

oOo

Several weeks of travel later, the Hero of Ferelden returned to the land granted to the Wardens for their sacrifice during the Fifth Blight. She couldn’t say that it had changed much in the years since her last visit but spring made everything better, green terrain softening everything around it. 

Fields of the people she used to know passed them by and she wondered how many of them still remained. The mage-templar war and then the Breach… Ferelden was a dangerous place to live. 

Catching sight of a particular farmhouse, Solona turned her horse in that direction, the two Inquisition soldiers Maxwell had sent with her following with confused looks. The small wooden structure was undescriptive in every way but that didn’t stop her from smiling at the sight of it. She slid off her horse and slowly walked up to the door, debating the pros and cons of this action. _The family could have moved on. Who knew who lived here now?_

Against her better judgment, her right hand rose and rapped its knuckles twice against the wooden plank. The sound was muffled and after a second, she hid her arms in the sleeves of her robe, once again unsure. Several breaths later, the door swung open and a middle-aged woman stared down at her, grey-brown hair straying across her forehead. 

“Hello, I don’t know if you remember me but I—“ Strong arms wrenched her off her feet, causing Solona to stumble forward. She waved off the Inquisition soldiers who, alarmed, had climbed off their animals and sank into the familiar embrace. Lorraine still smelled like freshly cooked bread and straw. 

The woman finally tugged Solona back from the sinking sensation and looked her over, eyes wet. “It’s been so long… I didn’t think we’d ever see you again. Olaf will be thrilled when I tell him you are here. Oh, will you stay for supper? I want to hear everything you’ve been up to in the last few years.”

Solona laughed, happily dusting off the flour that coated her front half. “I need to be heading to the Keep, but I would love to accept your invitation in a few days. I was just hoping to see a friendly face and check in on how the Warden-Commander is doing managing Amaranthine.”

Lorraine tucked a stray hair behind the mage’s ear. “He’s fine. No more or less than I’d expect from a lord. He’s better than his father but a less friendly ruler than you were when you were in command. Taxes are as reasonable as we can expect and he makes sure corruption stays down. But we must catch up later; you should see Julia, she’s a right woman now.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” Solona agreed. “But Nathaniel is expecting me by tonight so I really can’t delay too long. Are there any bad times to show up?”

“As long as the sun is up, so are we. You are always welcome.”

This time Solona initiated the hug. “Thank you, Lorraine. You are as kind of a person as I remember.”

The woman snorted, but squeezed the younger female warmly. “Now get out of here. Those high folk don’t like to be kept waiting.”

Spirits lighter than when she had arrived, Solona laughed and walked back to where her companions were waiting. They were patient enough not to say anying until she was back on her horse and they were on the move again. 

“Were you good friends with that woman?” Olisha asked, posture perfect as she brought her animal into a short trot. 

“Yes. She sort of adopted my husband and me when we lived here for a few years. I am happy to see that she and her family are still doing well. Though, if I’m honest, that wasn’t the only reason I went to see her.”

On her other side, Robert asked, “Then what was?”

Solona attempted to braid her horse’s mane as she talked. “I wanted to see how Nathaniel was doing according to the common people. If need be, I could probably convince him to change whatever it was he was doing. He was raised a noble so his ideas are sometimes very traditional.”

Olisha laughed. “And you think you would know better?” She didn’t mean it cruelly, the Free Marcher was just blunt. 

“As a Circle mage? Probably not. But I could at least bring it to his attention. The man I knew wasn’t so prideful that he wouldn’t stand his ground simply for his image’s sake.”

The soldiers seemed unconvinced and Solona grasped the end of the short braid she had made. Hopefully Nathaniel hadn’t changed that much. _But that remained to be seen._ She sighed, missing her old companions. No matter what Leliana thought, life was simpler back then.

oOo

The rebuilt Keep was impressive. Better than it had been originally. Solona and those who had survived the attack dedicated massive amount of time and resources to not only repair but improve the preexisting structure. Besides Redcliffe, Virgil’s Keep was one of the most defensible fortresses currently in use in Ferelden. If darkspawn ever attacked again, they’d meet cold stone and skin-stripping hot tar. 

Despite being from Skyhold, the two Inquisition soldiers seemed to be impressed. Solona tried not to take too much pride in that. Nathaniel had been the one to finish the construction. She and Alistair had simply started it. 

The three rode through the gate and the sight that greeted them almost had Solona turning around to travel back to the mountains. _Someone_ had decided to arrange some soldiers into two parade lines, fists over hearts. She blinked rapidly, internally combusting but at the same time, she marveled at the number of Wardens in the mix. Closing her eyes, she could feel their shared tainted blood. It was faintly nostalgic, it had been a while since her last encounter of one of her order. 

A young woman on the end raised her voice. “All hail the Hero of Ferelden, vanquisher of the Fifth Blight.”

“Hail!”

She was going to have words with Nathaniel about this. 

Convincing her horse into a trot, Solona rode past the two lines, simultaneously ignoring them and counting. Almost two dozen. The Warden-Commander had been busy.

Without even consulting her, the animal stopped suddenly and her face smacked into its solid neck. Trying to get horse hair out of mouth, Solona sat up. She should have just walked here. It would have taken longer, there was no real rush, but she wouldn’t have to take up legs that had a mind of their own. 

“Warden, it’s been a long time.” Nathaniel, despite his changes in status since she’d known him, hadn’t given up his petulance for dark colors. If it wasn’t for his pale skin, he could have just disappeared into the shadows of the keep. 

“That it has.” Solona didn’t need to fake the smile that blossomed across her face, studying the straight hard lines of the Warden-Commander’s face. He looked older, but she could still see her friend lurking in the depths of those bottomless eyes and in the way some of his rigidity left his limbs as she dismounted. “You’re looking healthy.”

Nathaniel crossed his arms over his chest, lips pressing together as he stared at her. “And you still haven’t mastered formal occasions it seems.”

She walked up to him, only half a length away from the man whose family had ruled this area for generations. As far as Solona could tell, Nathanial Howe had never begrudged his position of caretaker of his family’s ancestral land for another group. He accepted it like everything else that had been thrust upon him, rationally and determinedly.

“I haven’t really had the need.” Though that didn’t mean she was completely oblivious. As a Warden, she should treat Howe as her superior, yet as the previous Warden-Commander and the Hero of Ferelden, her position was less exact.

She settled for a moderate curtsey that ended in a sharp salute. Nathaniel’s face revealed nothing as he saluted as well. A moment of the wind flapping the flag and solid stares passed and then she and her two Inquisition soldiers were invited to come into the Keep to ‘recover from their trip’. Solona thanked the Warden-Commander and waved Olisha and Robert forward, a bit disconcerted.

Had he always been this official? Memories of jokes shared over a campfire passed through her and a gnaw of self-conscious anxiety began to rake at her chest. He could have grown to dislike her for giving him command. _He had every reason to._

Entering the main gate of the Keep, Solona decided that she would just have to get her friend back. Surely the bonds forged years ago hadn’t completely rusted away.

oOo

Either the current Seneschal or Nathaniel had set it up so the three members of the Inquisition were roomed next to each other. If she played the Game more, perhaps she could read implications in that but as it was, she did not need an antechamber, bathing room, and parlor. 

She had barely set her dusty bag on the maroon quilt of her four-posted bed when a messenger came to invite her to a private dinner with the Warden-Commander. _More formalities._ Solona looked down at her dirty traveling clothes and sighed. Then she smiled. Formalities did require cleanliness.

Sometime later, skin pink from heat and a scrounging, she slid on a fresh robe and wandered through the halls of the Keep, trying to figure out how much of the building was old and how much was new. That window seemed familiar while that wall was much too... she didn’t know how to describe it. _Straight? Clean?_ It felt different from the other walls she passed. 

There were other things she noticed despite not walking these halls in years. While Seneschal Varel had taken care of the décor when she had been in charge, Nathaniel seemed to make those kind of decisions himself. The tapestries were dark and often depicted battle scenes or images of the Grey Wardens. It didn’t make the building a cheerful place, but any visiting dignitary would not be able to ignore the contributions the Wardens had played in history. With Adamant so clear in the memories of the world, they had to remind people of that more often than not.

After getting lost down one of the hallways she decided must be new, Solona found the dining room. It was dimly lit, a few candles spread across the table and around the surrounding area. The colors were grand but muted, similar to the Commander’s own style. She was alone still. Not late then.

Her eyes adjusted, picking out the details of hard metal plates and a picture of Lady Howe. _What a funny looking… Oh._ Her initial scan of the space had been incorrect. Nathaniel was already here. His stealth had gotten better.

“Do you often sit in dark rooms by yourself?” she asked, glancing at two empty chairs which held a world of implications between them.

“When I need to. You’d be surprised how often this is the only time I can get some peace.”

Solona took a seat in the chair next to her friend, putting aside all social customs for a later date. Once again the man didn’t react, hard face potentially being carved out of stone. 

At this point she didn’t know if she’d notice the difference. 

She fiddled with her fingers and Nathaniel leaned forward, resting his elbows on the thick wood. _a statue then._ “Shall I be straight with you or do we continue this dance?”

“I’d rather it be over.” 

Digits tapped a rhythm, Solona swallowing at the half remembered tune. Her friend watched her with eyes that could have belonged to anyone. _He hadn’t always been so good at this, had he?_ It seemed unlikely this man who had snuck into the Keep so many years ago could now play the Game so well. 

“Are you here to influence the remaining Grey Wardens to do the Inquisition’s bidding?”

“What?” Of all her guesses, that was not the one she would have picked. Not visiting for a few years had been on the top.

The light of a nearby candle flickered in the dark expanse of the Commander’s eyes. Then he smiled and it was like she was taking in her first breath of fresh air after weeks in the Dark Roads. “You were always a terrible liar.” He laughed, a low unpracticed sound. “Well, if you are acting on behalf of Maxwell Trevelyan, at least I know it isn’t intentionally.”

His smile caused her to give up one of her own, but she flushed at his comments. “I am here for the Inquisition, though Max… the Inquisitor does not like it. He believes the Wardens are a worthless cause and I thought perhaps you and I could think of a way to convince him otherwise.”

Nathaniel’s flash of teeth faded as he thought. “I see. That isn’t as bad as I feared. But as long as you are still on our side, I will sleep better tonight. However, before we start discussing matters of business, we should eat. The cooks have wanted to impress you by making all your favorites. They’ve been at it for days.”

“Oh! They shouldn’t have done that. Anything that isn’t thrown into a pot sounds wonderful.”

“Traveling does lower your standards of what is good,” Nathaniel agreed. The side door swung open and Solona was temporarily distracted by the wonderful smells that wafted into the dining room. 

She didn’t recognize the servants that brought the food in, but some familiar faces peaked around the door. Solona grinned at them and they waved before ducked away, at least attempting to follow etiquette. Nathaniel laughed softly and they dug in, not bothering with the usual dance of rosewater and small talk. 

Warden-Commander Howe had been busy in the time since she had left. Besides training a new generation of Wardens, he was also rebuilding Amaranthine, working on making the port something to be reckoned with again. 

Nathaniel Howe had done very little. No wife, no love interest, not even some little tyke running around with his face. Flustered for the first time since she had arrived, the man claimed that his nieces and nephews were enough for him. His sister was fine. He was fine. Everything was fine. 

Solona was laughing into a pie slice by the end of it. Nothing had changed then. Not really. 

“Not that it really matters,” Nathaniel said, setting his fork down with the delicacy of one who had been raised to be at court. “How long do you think you will be staying?”

“If it’s not too much of a bother, a month or so. I'm willing to work to earn my keep of course.”

Her answer was a sigh. “I doubt you’d need to do anything the rest of your life if you choose but you don’t need to work here. Never here.”

Solona closed her eyes for a long blissful moment as she savored the pie filling. It tasted exactly as she remembered it. She tried to focus past the sweet flavor lingering on her tongue which was a task that was a bit too difficult. 

“But, on that note, has it occurred to you that you are the most senior Warden in both Orlais and Ferelden?” 

If she still had something solid in her mouth, she might have choked. “What?”

“Out of all the Wardens in the two countries, you have been a member of the Order the longest,” Nathaniel repeated patiently.

Her mouth opened to object, but the words refused to come. He was right, of course. There were no Wardens officially in Orlais and only Alistair had been ahead of her in Ferelden. Now, there was only her. _She was the one they’d turn to when disaster struck._ A terrifying thought.

“So basically you are saying that if there is another Blight, it better be in a different area.”

“I doubt we’d see another one in our lifetime,” Nathaniel commented. “But no, that’s not what I was getting at. There are two recruits I’ve been keeping an eye on and now that you are here, I was wondering if you would be willing to conduct the Joining ceremony.”

 _The Joining..._. Her hands betrayed her, shaking slightly. Luckily they were beneath the table and her friend couldn’t see them. 

She smiled, perhaps a bit too brightly. “Of course I will.”


	24. Another Day

Magic involving the blood of an Old God wasn’t something that the mage Wardens could perform in a single afternoon. Solona took a turn over the singing substance, funneling magic into the taint. Even after doing this over a dozen times, it still bothered her. It wasn’t blood magic but it was close. She had lived in the Circle and with an ex-templar too long to ever truly be comfortable with that. 

Eventually one of Nathaniel’s Wardens came to relieve the blood-sitting and she was able to get out of the hidden passageway behind the strangely new wall she had spotted before. It would take several more days to get a fresh batch ready so that meant she had at least some time before needing to take chance with good people’s lives. 

Drilling into her forehead with a knuckle, Solona walked into the main hall of the Keep. Her footsteps slowed. It had been a while and the decorations had changed but it was the place where she and Alistair had spent a painful amount of time. Varel had insisted that the Arlessa get involved in politics at least once a month so she had sat _just there_ , listening to petitions from the nobles and wondering how grown people could squabble so much. 

Alistair, despite his dislike of the whole thing, always joined her, remaining by her side as richly dressed people insulted her by implications. Solona smiled at the place where he had stood, uncomfortable and solid, determined to rebuild the Wardens at any cost, even if it meant dealing with nobles time and time again.

Warm tears trickled down her cheeks and she pressed a finger to stop the flow, surprised. She was sad of course, but it was an almost sweet sadness, tinged with happy memories. Sure it was hard rebuilding the keep, but no one was actively trying to kill them and they had a home. Alistair had been overjoyed at the sight of their room, tackling her to the bed with what could almost have been called giggles.

She blinked at the memories, dusty from disuse but still warm with feelings.

Solana left the hall as quickly as she had entered, bottom of her robe swishing softly against the floor. Darkness greeted her in the dim walkways and at the first opportunity, she took a door to the outer rim. 

Fresh air greeted her as she ascended to the Keep’s battlements. Like everything here it was a complex mixture of the known and the unknown, new and old materials sitting side-by-side. Her tears had long since dried but she could still feel their trails in the sharp springtime wind.

The edge of the wall tantalized her and she went over to lean against it, staring out across the straw rooftops and open areas that made up Virgil’s Keep. Almost all the buildings here were new; the darkspawn had been relentless. 

Far below the Wardens trained. That was how it needed to be. Always training for the day that their services would be needed. Ten years ago another Warden fought here, blond hair smothered by a steel helmet. Sigrun darted around, trying to sneak up on him while Velanna tried to trip the warrior with roots. Stumbling, Alistair swung wildly at the dwarf, missing completely but forcing her to take a few steps away to avoid the blade. That extra space gave the older Warden the room he needed to throw his shield at the Dalish elf.

Velanna grunted with the impact, back hitting the ground. Alistair whirled to snatch at Sigrun who was trying to take advantage of the warrior’s distraction. She ducked but he still managed to grab her arm, hoisting her off the ground. 

Alistair’s plate managed to deflect the worst of Sigrun’s blows and using a hand as large as the rogue’s face, he disarmed the smaller Warden. She responded with a grin, laughing as she lashed out with powerful leg. The warrior winced, taking a step back and tripping as a staff appeared behind him. Velanna was up.

The man who could have been king went down with his dwarf captive and something snapped. A younger Solana was in the arena in moments, healing magic trailing down her arms to pool in extending hands.

Velanna heaved herself to her feet, glaring at the broken wood in her hand. “Look what you’ve done, you oaf!”

Alistair sat up, Sigrun rolling to her feet. “What is it with apostates and being rude? Is it some kind of training you go through before you get your staff? ‘How to offend in ten words or less.’”

“If it is,” Sigrun added, retrieving her weapons and placing them in the straps on her back. “I hope the prize is something interesting like a puppy.”

“I am not—“

“Or maybe the ability to smile.” Alistair grinned at the elf who almost had smoke coming out her ears.

Muttering to herself, Velanna marched off past Oghren who smiling. “If you need something long and hard to hold, I would be willing to…” Two pieces of wood smacked him in the face.

“Are you alright?” Solona asked Alistair, watching his face for any sign of pain. The warrior rolled his shoulder and enveloped the much smaller mage with his arm. He leaned down, pressing his lips on hers. Solana pulled away with a blush, peeking at the people around them. _Hopefully no one saw._

“I’ve never been better.” A low voice murmured into her hair. She smiled and wrapped her arms around his armored body. She couldn’t agree more.

Several years and scars later, the older Solona pushed herself off the wall, needing to get some distance between herself and the memories. She needed to distract herself.

Forcing herself to ignore the event looming over her and the memories lurking in every corner, Solana kept herself busy. She smiled at the two recruits and talked to servants. Nathaniel had little time to entertain her and so she spent one of the days in Amaranthine, visiting various friends and acquaintances. To her endless surprise, a number of citizens remembered her, pausing in the street to shake her hand and tell her how good it was to see her again. Each encounter left her smiling, nostalgia of an old home.

But time moved without interference from any mortal wishes and Solona found herself walking down the side stairwells into the basement, wondering at the possibility of avoiding her responsibilities. Nathaniel had made sure that everyone was away for the ceremony, making her footsteps echo in the strange quiet. Her heart was a low beat in her ears, setting her nerves on end. No one was around to hear it or her, even if she screamed.

The Warden-Commander of Ferelden was already in the cave-like cellar when she arrived. His hand dropped from pressing against a metal chalice and he smiled, not looking at the object that had determined the fate of so many.

“Welcome. Thank you for agreeing to do this.” 

Solona swallowed, tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. She prided it off, swiping the back of her teeth. “We need more Wardens,” someone with her voice said. Dark eyes focused on her and she knew he was reading her mind but she couldn’t think about it. _Not yet._

Footsteps clattered and she took up her spot next to Nathaniel, hands buried in the folds of her old blue and white Grey Warden armor. It still fit, which was probably a good thing. She was the face of this organization, the clothes helped her to act the part. 

The elf rogue and the human warrior skipped and walked into the room, feelings about the order they were about to join clear. 

“I can’t believe we get to have our Joining done by the Hero of Ferelden!” The elf gushed, grinning at Solona who couldn’t quite manage to return the expression. Her heart attempted to keep beating from somewhere near the bottom of her stomach but the blood must not have been pumping very well because she couldn’t quite feel the tips of her fingers. 

Nathaniel welcomed them and motioned for the two recruits to stand in front of the table. She could feel his dark gaze on her face but she kept looking forward, arms crossed behind her back. When it came out, her voice was steady.

“Today you go through the Joining, which countless Grey Wardens have gone through before you. I say the same words which were said to them.

“Join us brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you.”

The silence of the room could have sliced her open it was so sharp. Her reassuring breath of existence dented it but she could still feel the blade against her skin. She twisted to the side and stiff fingers circled around the cold metal chalice. The swirl of maroon blood sang softly in her head, a tune she knew better than she knew herself yet could not have repeated at sword-point. 

Her ears tuned out the name Nathaniel spoke and the elf stepped forward, smile still present in the corners of his eyes. The chalice was heavier than an object of its mass should have been as Solona passed it to the recruit. He took it reverently, eyes wide as he stared into the dark pool of liquid. 

_Brown eyes, blue eyes, eyes of no discernible color. Smiles and frowns at the recruits took the steps they needed to become part of the Grey. Cold bodies on a hard floor._

“Drink brother.” Solona heard herself say. She forced her body to stay steady as the elf lifted the cup up to his lips and drank. The container began its trip downward easily enough then the change took hold of the one carrying it, a film covering the elf’s green eyes. Solona managed to catch the chalice as the newest Warden fell, knees hitting the stone floor with a dull thud. More a limp doll than a living creature, the elf stared forward, face twisting into expression of pain, followed by fear and anguish. Then he was unconscious, slumping to the ground. 

The air she had been holding came out in a sudden rush and Solona exchanged a relieved glance with Nathaniel. One had at least survived. _Screams in the dark._

“By Andraste’s flaming… What did you do to him?” The female warrior yelled in the sudden silence, backing away.

“It is just part of the Joining. He will survive and be chattering away in a few hours. Now, it’s your turn, Natasha. Come drink.” Nathaniel’s calm words only seemed to incense the woman further. 

“There’s no way I’m drinking that. It’s probably blood magic. The Hero’s a mage, it only makes sense,” the woman spat at them and drew her sword, shield appearing in her other hand. 

_We should really disarm them before we do this,_ Solona thought then immediately felt sick at the hard reasoning. _She was stone, a figure not a person._

“You were conscripted into the Grey Wardens after abandoning your comrades in the Arbor Wilds. It was us or Celene’s judgement. You chose to do some good with your talents and skills. Please. Drink.”

If Nathaniel was surprised at her tone, he didn’t react. The warrior did. Looking more like a wild animal than a person, she gaped and her shield dropped a fraction. 

“Do you want to end your days as a deserter or as a fighter? You can choose. We won’t do it for you.”

The elf took this moment to jerk to consciousness. And then proceeded to throw up. Solona automatically moved to his side, rubbing his back as he cleared out the contents of his stomach and then some.

“What was in that cup?”

Half glancing at the sharp object still pointed in her direction, Solona cautiously knelt down next to the newest Grey Warden. “A way to help us fight darkspawn and kill archdemons.”

“Well it tastes awful. Natasha, have you tried it?”

A slight smile, a lightening of expression. “No, not yet.” 

“What are you waiting for? The next Blight? Darkspawn won’t hunt themselves.”

“No.” The sword point hit the floor and the woman laughed. “No, I suppose they won’t. Hero, I’m sorry. I… guess I freaked out. Do I still get to drink from the cup?”

“Of course.” Getting the elf to his feet, Solona glanced at Nathaniel whose face had once again gone expressionless. He met her eyes and over five years of separation fuzzed any communication the years of fighting together had built up. She had made so many friends over the years, good friends but… how many of them had she neglected as Alistair and her traveled the world? Leliana, Zevran, Sten, the Wardens she helped to create, and the friends they had made along the way… how many had she kept in contact with?

_Now is not the time, Amell._

The human warrior took the dark grey chalice in her metal hands, staring into its depths. “Drink the magic blood,” she muttered. “Sounds like a good idea.”

Without further ado, she drained the remainder of the liquid. They weren’t in time to keep the metal from clanging against the stone ground, but Nathaniel managed to cushion the woman’s fall as she coughed. 

“Natasha!” the elf yelled, leaning forward dangerously and threatening to send both him and Solona toppling.

_Please…no…_

White filmed eyes stared blankly upwards and after an endless second, Nathaniel brushed them shut.

“No! What are you doing? She is just taking a while… she’s…” The new Warden strained against Solona’s balance and muscles straining, she lowered him down next to his friend. “We were going to save the world. Travel to Weisshaupt and look for griffons…” 

The Warden-Commander passed the body off to the person who cared for her the most and pulled his former boss to the side. “It was too optimistic to think that they both would have survived. The Joining has never had a very good percentage...however much we might wish it.”

_A younger Nathaniel helps Ogrhen carry the body again. Solana tries to follow them, healing magic burning at her fingertips. She screams useless words at them all, trying to change things with reason alone. Her friend… Alistair holds her she sobs. Dampness in her hair._

“It shouldn’t have to be this way. There should be something…”

Nathaniel laughed. Not with her but at her and it was a bitter sound of a man who had lost too many friends and companions. What had she done to him by making him be the head of the Ferelden Grey Wardens? “Unless the Architect manages to change thousands and thousands of darkspawn, there will be a need for Wardens. And even then, having another sentient race in Thedas will hardly create an age of peace. Divine Faustine II wasn’t wrong in naming this the Dragon Age.”

The argument was punctuated with soft sobs from the hunched figure. Words recently spoken echoed in Solona’s head. _The duty that cannot be forsworn._ Our burden and our fight. _Stop. You did what must be done._

“Right.” Once again the two Wardens exchanged looks, resolve and despair solidifying. Nathaniel glanced away first and went to the newest member of his team. Solona didn’t know what he said but he managed to separate the living from the dead. She knelt down and picked up the old cup. Despite being dropped countless times, it was still whole. 

There was something endlessly deep about that, but she was in no mood to think about it. There was a body to deal with.

oOo

Solona raised her mug a half-second after the rest of the Wardens. One of the few Orlesian Wardens who had crossed the border called out, “For the honorable dead. May they be in a better place and not too lonely until we join them.”

Alcohol burned her throat as it went down and she struggled and failed not to cough. Nathaniel managed to get his through his system without flinching even his hand clenched slightly against his jacket. “For the honorable dead.”

“For Natasha,” Talian said, swaying. Solona was impressed how much the small elf drank and was still standing. _Well, mostly standing._ He was leaning against a Warden who looked more like a bear than a person, finishing another mug of something that smelled like it had been scrapped off the floor.

“Can’t you afford the good stuff?” Solona asked her friend, words still unslurred. Her thoughts had loosened their ties on the present, drifting through random observations. 

“Maybe they prefer this,” Nathaniel suggested. _Why does he wear so much black? Dramatic effect?_ The edge of the bar she was leaning against dug into her back but at least she wasn’t on the floor like several others. “Besides, according to some, Qunari alcohol is the good stuff.”

Solona blinked rapidly and forced her thoughts to slosh through the slowing effect of drink. “Maybe you are just cheap.” Her friend laughed, pale cheeks turned rosy their celebration and she pushed him, unable to use enough force to scare a kitten. 

A thump and a roar of approval alerted her to the fact that the final non-Warden in their drinking group had succumbed to the bleak bliss of sleep. 

“For the Wardens!” _How did she get another drink in her hands?_ Solona shook her head and took a fiery sip along with the rest of her brothers and sisters. _Must be magic._

The barkeep pulled the soldier away to wherever it was they put intoxicated patrons and one of the Wardens Nathaniel had recruited stood up. She was an elf, a thin boned brunette with a dark-wooded bow lurking by her chair. 

“Listen my siblings and listen well. My name is Jezebel and I am the fiercest warrior Thedas has ever seen. When you are sleeping in your soft beds, I roam the world in the darkest places that haunt your nightmares. The things I have seen, the things I have killed would have you sobbing for the sweet milk of your mother’s breast. For I have killed an ogre.” She grinned at the cheers and draining her mug of floor slop, sat down. 

The Orlesian Warden took up her challenge. Stroking his neat blond beard, he stood and with cultured accent of the nobility and the measured tone of one who was accustomed to public speaking, declaimed, “An ogre is nothing. I’ve seen calves with larger horns. My name is Cavet and I have fought longer and harder than any of you have dreamed. While you cuddle your dogs—“ 

“They smell better than any of your fancy ladies! And are more honest to boot!” Solona laughed and covered her ears as the entire conscious population of the tavern yelled their agreement to the bear-man’s assessment. Cavet shook his head and held up his hands. 

“I won’t disagree. A no may mean yes and a yes may mean I will see you dead. Very well. I have survived the jungle of masks and perfumes while you cuddled your furry wives… I mean friends. I faced down Tevintar mages and I have killed a demon.”

As Jezebel had before him, Cavet acknowledged his audience and finished his drink. He had barely taken his seat when another Warden shot up, listing his accomplishments. Several others followed and Solona nudged Nathaniel during a lull, grinning. He glared at her for a long moment and when it became clear no one was taking up the challenge of killing a dragon, rose to his feet. 

“My name is Nathaniel and I have seen the dark side of the world. While you were wandering the world untainted, I faced my father’s killer and also the man he had become. I watched foundations crumble and a horde of darkspawn crash against stone walls. But none of that compares to this, I have killed a broodmother.”

Even the tapping of the barkeeper against a new crate of ale slowed as the Warden-Commander explained his life. Solona was suddenly aware of the slosh in her glass and the swish of barmaid’s skirts.

“Hear hear!” The bear-man called raising his mug to their leader. “A dragon to a broodmother. Who can beat that?”

Nathaniel didn’t so much as push as shove Solona off her chair. The clatter was barely heard in the din of noises that had followed up but it was as Nathaniel had slipped some cotton into her ears when she wasn’t looking as the world muffled. The drinks at work, she didn’t doubt. 

The man who she had yet to learn the name of grinned, resting his hands on his great chest, expectant of a tale worth hearing. The room was too warm, too crowded for this. Solona bent her thumb, twisting it at an awkward angle and focusing her mind. She had read ballads before but it had been a long time since she tried to compose one.

“My name is Solona Amell. I am a cousin to a Champion and a daughter to none. I have befriended assassins and apostates alike. I found love and threatened it in the hopes of having them survive. I traveled across Thedas, killing more things that I would like to think of and more people than I would care to know. I thrust a sword through the head of an archdemon and lived. But in all these things, there is one thing that I learned. Life is no good alone.”

The chair was reassuring solid underneath her and she threw back her head, finishing her own floor scum in a burning rush. She coughed and looked up to see the bearded man staring at her. With more seriousness that she had seen all evening, he raised his mug. “To the Hero and to our fallen brethren.”

“To the Hero!”

“To those we have lost!”

Noise once more brought up to a comfortable level, Solona allowed herself to smile, the gesture bringing with it a sense of calm. Talian was openly weeping over his lost friend but the Warden next to him laughed, hand on the newest member’s back.

“Nathaniel?”

“Yes?”

Solona leaned into the bar and resting her elbows against the wood, tilted her head towards the Warden-Commander, honesty flowing the barkeeper’s tap. “You once said that I destroyed your family. Do you think that I also gave you a new one?”

The hand that had been pressed against Nathaniel’s forehead twisted and then dropped. “Maybe… Yes. You might have.”

Solona grinned as Cavet called for more drinks, on him, making the few remaining non-Wardens in the tavern groan. The room was swimming slightly and the previous suffocating heat had faded to a mere sleepy warmth. 

“I’m glad.”

oOo

The days after the Joining flickered by, both uniform and random in their passing. Solona didn’t really pay attention to the time, instead watching the budding of leaves and sprouts of green things in the fields and discussing with Nathaniel the various ways they could bring back the public’s opinion of the Wardens. The library had been updated since her residence and so she spent more days than in a long while simply reading. Right-side up, sideways, and once upside down on the battlements, getting strange looks from anyone who saw her. 

Of course, the peace was too good to last. In the midst of reading Brother Genetivi’s latest book, Nathaniel sent her a messenger asking if she could see him at his office. By now, she knew the way. 

Like the rest of the keep, Howe’s office was dark colored. _How could he stand it?_ she wondered, feeling slightly suffocated after the warmth of the outside. Like most office-people he was elbow deep in paper-work. One day she would discover why there was a never-ending stream of documents needing to be read. Weren’t there people for that?

“Anything interesting?” she asked, picking a sheet up off the floor. Supply chains. Just like the kind of stuff Cullen was always… _Andraste protect me._ “I hope you have more chains for the common soldiers. The Wardens will eat all of this.”

Nathaniel didn’t bother giving that joke the energy it clearly didn’t deserve. “Sit please, Solona.”

“Alright.” Solona pushed aside some documents so that she could be comfortable and put her hands in her lap. Technically, he was her superior. _Wasn’t that a strange notion._

“How long do you plan on staying here?”

Business-like it was then. “For a while. I can help train recruits or hunt darkspawn if you want”

“What are you running from?” Nathaniel refused to be put off, continuing down his train of questioning.

Solona took in a deep breath and held it. “What do you mean?”

The Warden-Commander glanced at her, smirking. “Don’t pretend to be old and wise. I was there when you held some of your first meetings with the nobles of the area. You haven’t changed that much. You tend to run from your problems when you think you can get away with it. Since I’ve given you shelter for the last month, I think I deserve an explanation.”

With no particular thought on how to react, Solona resorted to simply smiling and only marginally kept herself from waving. “It’s… complicated.”

“It always is.”

Solona groaned and buried her head in her hands. He did deserve to know, but that would require her thinking about… it, and since that wasn’t going to happen she would need to distract him. 

“Did you hear what happened to Anders?”

A laugh. He knew exactly what she was doing. It was not like she was ever good at being subtle. “Of course. The mage that blew up the Chantry and then was killed by the Champion? It is not something that is easily missed even by the obtuse Wardens. He was one of our own. Luckily, that fact is not the one people remember.”

“Do you ever wonder at the man we knew and then man we heard about? They don’t seem the same.” She spread her fingers, catching a glimpse of the too dark and too pale man in front of her. 

He sighed. “I know he was your friend and that you let him run off when he began to feel restless, but he did have an edge. A something that made him estranged even before he combined with Justice.”

Solona pictured the Anders she knew. The memory was faded, details of features gone. Long golden hair, a ready smile and jokes abound. Not the kind of person who would have killed so many. _The Tale of the Champion_ didn’t account for that kind of transformation.

“How could he…” She struggled to find the words that fit the thoughts fliting through her head. 

“He did what he felt like he had to.” That was generous. “But if Hawke hadn’t killed him, there would have been no place he could have hidden from us.”

She shouldn’t have been surprised but her heart may have stopped for a second. “You would have…”

“Yes.” Over seven years… What kind of decisions had he made that made killing a possible friend such a firm conviction? No grey, no doubt. Would that have happened to her if she had been the one to stay?

Silence lingered over them like a blanket. Nathaniel massaged his forehead, tapping his fingers against one of his reports. “Solona, if you need to talk, I will listen. But you will have to face your problems one day. In my experience, they usually come when you would least expect it or like it. Take control and deal with the issue on your own terms. That is my advice.”

Words danced on her lips, begging to be spoken. She could get it off her chest, move on with her life. 

But no, that would be too simple. 

“I’ll be fine.”

Nathaniel Howe shook his head and went back to scratch at parchment. “Very well. Feel free to stay as long as you like. The Keep will be here for you as long as you choose to hide from whatever you are running from.”

Solona gripped her robes and spitting out some pleasantries, made her way out of the Warden-Commander’s office. Her thoughts churned as she walked, debating what Nathaniel had said. He was far too observant for an ex-noble. Why did it matter if she was running or not? It didn’t change anything. 

Or perhaps it did. 

Hands finding their way into her pockets, Solona paced through the overly dark hallways, marching through patches of shadow and light alike. She could just stay here. Send Olisha and Robert back to Skyhold and just be a Warden. Fight darkspawn and grow the Ferelden order.

She had abandoned on her Warden duties over the last year, not that anyone would ever comment on it. She was supposed to find a way to end the Calling, so Wardens had a choice on how they died. Obsessed with her own suffering, she had given up. 

_No, no, you are just beating yourself up._ Solona pulled her hands out and braced them against a wall. A Howe Arlessa stared down at her from a faded portrait, judging the mage in her home. 

_A mage, a mage. Everything was more complicated since she was a mage. And a Warden._ Neither of them she would change any more than she would cut off a limb but both added more problems than they solved. She needed to figure this out. But since she had trouble thinking about the problem, solving it would be difficult.

She found a window and leaning against it, watched Talian shoot a series of bull’s eyes into a target. The young Warden laughed and exchanged remarks with one of the soldiers. He was recovering, despair rarely lurking behind his smiles. It was possible to move on. But did she even want to?

 _Well,_ Solona decided. _There is no rush to decide._ She had nowhere she needed to be and no one was expecting her. Her problems could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out once again to Natalie who made comments that helped with this chapter!


	25. The Nightingale's Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretending to be a hobbit, so enjoy this a few days early! Just a bit more of pseudo-plot till we get back to Culleny goodness.
> 
> *note, Jose will now be spelled Josie

Despite being only inches away from summer, Skyhold was still cold. Solona had unwrapped her cloak from her pack soon after they entered the Frostbacks but that didn't stop the chill from creeping in. After spending weeks in a viridescent Amaranthine, she had enjoyed spending time in the sun losing the winter-cast to her skin and sparing with the Warden mages.

Although she was suffering from the change in temperatures, the people of Skyhold were clearly enjoying the warmth. Children scampered around unbundled and everywhere she looked workers did their jobs in sleeveless shirts or went without completely. It was a shock of every shade of skin that Thedas could offer. A group of soldiers ran past the entrance, knees lifting up past their waists. Lieutenant Fraiser ran with them, shouting whenever a particular recruit started to fall behind. Life hadn't stopped at the center of Inquisition activity.

No one besides the gate guards even really noticed the three horseback riders trot into opening, avoiding gaggles of youngsters who threatened to throw themselves underneath the sharp hooves. They passed the stalls that were becoming increasingly permanent and as they approached the stable, a boy ran out to help them with their horses. Solona waved him off, by now she could take care of her own animal, and he watched with large eyes as she cast a rejuvenating spell, hands a light blue. 

The saddle and tackle came off easily and these she handed to the stable boy who know where to put them better than she. Olisha and Robert were right behind her, their horses nickering at their efforts.

“We made it back,” Robert said, grinning. 

“Did you think the scary Wardens were going to eat you?” Olisha teased then glanced quickly at Solona to make sure she knew there was no offense intended. 

Robert mock-glared at her. “Oh, laugh now. You were uneasy about going to the Keep too.” Now the female soldier frowned.

Solona laughed, not quite sure how else she should react. “It’s fine. Our secrets keep us aloof and that separation can create fear. As long as you remember we are as mortal and fallible as everyone else, the Wardens can continue doing their job.”

“Yes Hero.” “Yes Warden.” But it was said with slight smiles. Solona smirked and with a wave, went to find Leliana, pointedly ignoring her desire to instead go to the warm office on the battlements. The Grand Hall was partially filled with glittering nobles and the dusty mage ducked to the side. To the front, the Inquisitor was holding court with several peoples, Josephine at his side. 

They were trying to end a war before it began. Her report could wait.

Solona apologized repeatedly as masked Orlesians gave way to her before turning their attention back to the show. The Grand Game was afoot, even if some of the key players refused to get involved. 

A swath of purple caught her attention as she turned into the stairs and half ran up them. Turning right, she made her way to the balcony, which contained a small crowd of Inquisition people. Leliana was amongst them. Her friend took a step to the side, giving her room to stand next to her. 

Maxwell was throwing pretty words around like so much confetti and not only the Orlesians seemed impressed. Josephine barely covered her smile with her papers when the Inquisitor eloquently insulted the Nevarran ambassador’s lineage while calling the Tevintar representative an idiot, all while maintaining his formal air. 

“He is good at this,” Solona admitted as the dark-haired magistar spluttered and the Nevarran just looked confused. 

“Of course. Even a second son of a Free Marchers’ noble family can’t completely ignore learning how to command.” Leliana leaned against the balcony railing, hood obscuring most of her features as she watched the crowd below like some bird of prey. “And with Josephine as his intended, the Inquisition will be nigh unstoppable in the years to come.”

 _Josie and Maxwell?_ Solona supposed they had been serious and it was clear that no little affection lay between the two nobles but it was still a surprise. “When are they planning a wedding?”

The Nightingale laughed, the sound partially stifling the persistent worry of who exactly she was talking to. “Our lady ambassador hasn’t decided yet. You know Jose. This will be the event of the decade. She had just started on the guest list and almost every noble in Southern Thedas is invited. If we weren’t so financially secure, the cake alone would have devastated the budget.

“She has even invited me to be a part of the ceremony. The Divine will, of course, facilitate it but I am to be her chief assistant.” The tinkling laugh of a trained singer came again and Solona had no choice but to smile with it. “Apparently the color of the ceremony is going to be blue and gold and her sisters and I are all going to be wearing matching dresses. It sounds like something out of a story, but I have no doubt Josie will pull it off.”

The Inquisitor made a suggestion that he knew neither party would agree to only follow it with something slightly more reasonable. Solona recognized the trick from a rhetoric book, but Josie managed to stay more composed than she. _That’s why she’s the ambassador,_ the Hero thought, smiling at the look the Antivan gave the Free Marcher. 

“Skyhold needs a good celebration again,” she said. “With the end of the world and the rebuilding afterwards, everyone’s been working hard.”

“That they have,” Leliana agreed. “Peace is hard won. Some must sacrifice everything in order for others to live how they want.”

Despite the heat of an overly crowded room, Solona shivered. So that’s how the rogue’s mind worked. Someone was going to need to do something about that eventually.

oOo

The days went by as they had before, which was to say peaceful and uneventful. Solona was never ceased to be amazed with how despite extensive periods of time away, Skyhold stayed the same. Perhaps an ancient fortress could only take so much change within a confined time period and then it slowed the rest of the progress, forcing the mortals between its walls to follow the prescribed time-stream.

She did as it felt like she always had done. Healing, training, reading, and helping. Of course, the mood when she was in Cullen’s office was completely different from when she had started, air just a bit harder to come by and never finding quite the right position on the couch, but there was little she could do about that. 

_Everything is about balance,_ Solona decided, only half concentrating on knitting her patient’s bone back together. Water was good until you drowned and free time was nice until you grew bored. She could heal this bone completely as if nothing had ever had happened, or she could mostly heal it, letting the body do the hard work. Maybe that would make young Olaf think twice about leaping out a window to see if he really would fall into the sky. 

Not too much and not too little. It was hard sometimes but not impossible. 

Finished mending the muscle and skin that had been damaged in the fall, Solona told her patient to be careful for the next few weeks and his arm would be as good if not better than before. The dwarf gave her a look and ran off to join his small band of friends who laughed at him before sprinting off to find some more trouble to get in to. 

She watched their little limbs pump, high-pitched giggles lingering behind them like bright ribbons of happiness. Her sigh, when it came, was short, bottoming out half-way through. There was no point on dwelling on it; impossible things didn’t suddenly become possible overnight. 

Two shapes crossed the bridge above her head and Solona glanced up, immediately dropped her gaze, and then after a thumping second, peeked back up as the slender dark-haired man and the broad blond man walked against the blue noon sky. Their heads were down, talking and after several long seconds, they walked into the office at the end of the arch and Solona was left alone with her thoughts. Terrible idea.

With nothing better to do, the child had been the last in a short line of people needing her assistance since there were far too many capable healers in Skyhold these days, Solona stood and climbed the series of stairs to the Great Hall. Bypassing the nobles who ignored the slight mage, she took a left and pushed through a set of doors.

As always, and as she knew the ambassador intended, Jose’s office was comfortable and fashionable. The fire was freshly burning, more bright than hot. Solona grabbed a thick tome from the desk and nestled herself into one of the broad chairs.

“Please tell me that this is some elaborate joke,” an Antivian accented voice demanded, warm tones crisp. 

“If it pleases you I will, but I would prefer not to lie to you,” an Orlesian answered. 

The tapping of one set of shoes and the almost inaudible beat of another rounded the corner. “Solona,” Josephine begged. “Please help me convince her that this action is wrong. I got the Inquisitor to push off making a decision for now, but I fear what would happen if she persists.”

“You only delay the inevitable Josie,” Leliana informed her old friend. “It needs to be done. All other solutions would compromise our network and operations in the region.”

“Cullen said his men could manage it. Your way comes at a great cost.”

“One I am willing to pay.”

Josie blew air out through her nose in a long sigh of exasperation. It sounded if like they were repeating an old play, one that had been said time and time again, words worn and abused. Solona gathered the remaining tatters in her mind, patching them into a make-shift quilt of events. She shut her book.

“Leliana, what is going on?”

The rogue waved off the question, graceful hand waving the air before nestling in the cloth wrinkles at her hip. “Several of my agents have disappeared in the lands of the Count de Féconder, but before they stopped sending messages, they gave us rumors of the Count having a blood mage in his employ.”

Solona had to loosen her fingers off the book one by one. “Blood magic? Are you sure?”

Blue eyes gave her a look. “We were both there at the Siege of Redcliffe. I am sure as I can be. Something needs to be done and it needs to be done soon before more lives are lost.”

“But killing the Count de Féconder is not the answer!” Josie interjected. “We are not sure it is him and until we are, needlessly killing a highly esteemed noblemen will hardly help our cause in Orlais.”

For the first time, Solona was glad none of the Inquisition’s advisors were mages. 

“What was Cullen’s idea?”

Leliana shook her head, tugging her hood further down over her brow. “He suggested sending a group of soldiers and templars to the area to investigate. But all that will accomplish is more corpses.”

Shadows obstructed Solona’s view of Leliana’s face but there was no mistaking the rigidity lurking underneath a relaxed exterior. She was like a snake in the moment before it strikes, the instant of pure tranquility that masked a deadly intent. She had held herself similar during the Landsmeet. 

“And Maxwell? What does he think?”

Some of the tension melted from Josephine’s face at the mention of her betrothed. “He doesn’t know how to proceed. A potential blood mage is serious no matter the situation but he also knows that Orlais is unstable enough without us sending an assassin amongst the upper crust.”

 _At least he wasn’t behaving rashly._ Solona stood and faced her old friend head on. “Leliana, is everything alright?”

“Of course. There is nothing for you to be concerned about,” the Nightingale reassured her. 

Solona set her book to the side and met Josie's dark eyes. The ambassador’s brow was wrinkled; slowly she nodded and crossed her arms over her chest, clipboard still in hand. “Leliana, this needs to end. I know you are upset Zevran left and you’ve been dealing with some things since Divine Justina passed but—“

“An intervention?” The redhead laughed at the pair of them. “You two think you know me and that gives you the right to interfere in my life? It doesn’t. This conversation ends now.” She turned and headed towards the door.

“Leliana, please,” Solona begged, unconsciously walking around the chair to follow. “We want to help. You’ve been so hard, it’s like I don’t even know you anymore. Where is the woman who sang by the fireside and taught me that there was always a way to save everyone? What happened to make you this way?”

A beat and it looked as if the woman was going to come back to them, to agree to listen and to talk. But then her hand grabbled the door handle and swung it open. “Solona… Josie… I know you mean well, but the woman you speak of is dead. She died a long time ago.”

The door clicked shut when it should have slammed, leaving the mage and the Antivian in silence. Josie sighed and rubbed her face with her hand. “That could have gone better.”

Solona just stared at the wall that blocked her view, heat beat strange in her chest. Leliana was gone. By her own admission, she wasn’t coming back. After being taken care of and counting on her friend for so long, Solona had failed her. The sister had been there when Solona had needed her, but she, so involved in her own dramas, couldn’t reciprocate. 

_What had she done?_

Without thinking, Solona grabbed her robes and marched out of Josephine’s office, ignoring the questions the ambassador tossed at her and going past the brightly-colored nobles, through the rotunda, and into the fresh air. The wind threatened to tug her off the walkway but she continued forward, striding into Cullen’s office and barely jumping when a breeze slammed the door shut behind her. 

“What did you do to Leliana?” 

The Inquisitor stared at her from where he and Cullen were going over some papers. “What are you talking about?”

Solona could barely feel her face, it was so cold and hard, more like stone than skin. “Leliana. My friend. I noticed it before and now I am sure; she has changed. I’ve been communicating with Varric and he thinks you had something to do with it. I want to you to tell me what you did and then we are going to figure out how to fix it.”

A mask seemed to slide over the Free Marcher noble’s features. “Oh, yes. That. I don’t know what you think you know but whatever Varric has told you was not the truth. Leliana was well on her way to becoming like this long before I met her.”

“But you helped. You encouraged drastic solutions.”

Maxwell shook his head, picking up a document to look at it more closely. “I made suggestions that achieved the result we needed with as few casualties as possible. She was the one that made the choices. I’m sorry you are distressed about the changes you perceive in Leliana but I’m afraid you are speaking to the wrong person.”

Solona glared at the Inquisitor then at her hands. White sparks jolted across her skin, raining on the ground before. Cullen looked tense at the argument but his eyes weren’t focused on angry mage, instead he drilled holes in the maps on his desk, hand tapping the parchment. She didn’t know what she would do if she had to meet eyes with him at this moment. She didn’t want to know. 

“No, you are to blame. Not completely but don’t deny your influence in the woman she has become.” Keeping her arms pinned to her sides, Solona stalked forward, voice dropping into the closest she could be to menacing. “And you will help us fix it. If not for me, for Josephine. You care about her at least.”

Despite the obvious flaws in her reasoning, Maxwell seemed to be considering it. “Fine. I will think about what you’ve said. Are you content?”

“Yes,” she snapped and looping her eyes around Cullen to avoid the concerned expression that would be there, spun to walk out the door. The dramatics of the situation was ruined as she stumbled over own feet and crashed into the wall. Face burning, she fled and escaped into the cool air of Skyhold’s outer wall.

Once free from the pressures of power, Solona took a gasp of air. Her hair tickled the sensitive skin of her face and she raised her hands, last bits of angry energy dancing down her arm and sinking into the flesh of her chest, little pinches of power. There had to be something she could do about Leliana. No one was beyond saving, especially those who thought that they were already lost. 

Leliana couldn’t be gone. Not while Solona was still here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not saying I almost cried when I accidentally hardened Leliana in my first play through but... yeah... It might have been late at night.


	26. Three Simple Words

Solona didn’t mean to flee the rookery, trip on the stairs, and crash down the second half of the flight; she started out at a dignified walk. Barely registering the concerned comments of the people in the library, she heaved herself to her feet and ran to the other staircase. These were taken only slightly better than the first ones, but at this point Solona just needed to get away, conversation with the agent chasing her no matter how fast she moved.

_“I’d like to see Leliana please.”_

_“I’m sorry, Hero. The Nightingale is not here.”_

_“Yes she is. She’s right over there.”_

_“The Nightingale does not want to see you.”_

Solona gasped as she hit the flat ground, feet taking a majority of the impact. Her knees and palms got the rest as she fell forward. Luckily a door barred her from the comments of the nobles so she was able to start moving again with little fuss. 

_Coward_ , she thought at herself. She should have stayed and figured it out, tried to regain the friendship that seemed to be sliding away and yet here she was, running away. Again. 

The third staircase went the best, the burning of tears slowing her down to a shambling walk. She swiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her robe. There would be no crying today.

The dirt was soft underneath her shoes as she finally reached a point where she could breathe and not feel like the twilight world was watching. Not that anyone was paying attention. Everyone had things to do while she just- _No, none of that now. You live too good of a life to start feeling sorry for yourself._

She paused outside the tavern, riotous laughter and warm light pouring out of the building. A light strain of music tickled over the chaos, wrapping the atmosphere into something inviting. Why was she here? She certainly didn’t intend to come in this direction. Besides she had given up on alcohol after that last disaster. 

Solona turned away and just kept turning, unconsciously wanting to be wanted. She stepped over the tavern’s threshold and took in the garnish sights, sounds, and holding her breath, the smells. 

Surprisingly, or perhaps not quite so much so since she never came here, she knew or at least recognized nearly all of the soldiers already packed around the tables and piled around the bar. Some had been in the Hinterlands, some in the Deep Roads, and even some she had helped heal. Others she knew only through helping Cullen out, gathering reports from officers training recruits. 

One familiar figure waved her down and without really thinking about it, she went towards him. Garret. 

He grinned, clearly well into the evening’s festivities. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

“I don’t usually come here,” Solona said, taking the stool he offered after he pushed a young scared-looking man off of it. 

“Well in that case, let me buy you a drink. You deserve it for taking such good care of our Commander.”

The wooden bar top was detailed and worn, but clearly well-tended, her hand meeting no resistance as she ran her fingers across it. “I don’t take care of him.”

Garret waved down a serving maid and ordered two more mugs of something Solona didn’t quite catch. “No need to be modest, I’ve seen you do it. He seems less rigid around you. Happier. And a happy commander is one who doesn’t order us to run quite as many laps for not preforming some drill to his perfection.”

Maybe she was mistaken. The tavern wasn’t warm, it was sweltering. 

“So thank you for that. To the Commander!” Garret shouted, raising his mug up. Solona readily accepted her own mug when it appeared, choking down the foul-tasting substance. 

“The Commander!” Several of the nearby soldier’s agreed loudly. Garret was kind enough to hit her on the back when she started coughing for real, throat burning. _Why was she drinking this again?_

 _Oh that was right._ Solona tried again, needing to be fuzzy headed. She set down her empty mug and when a barmaid came by, asked for another for herself and her friend.

“Did you hear that? The Hero is buying tonight!” Someone yelled and Solona steadied herself against the solid wood frame of the bar, already light-headed. _This was going to be interesting._

Several drinks later, the entire tavern was singing along with Maryden’s song, making up with volume what they lacked on pitch. 

“Her attacks are loud and they're joyful.  
But she knew the ways of nobler men,  
And she knew how to enrage them.”

Solona raised her mug with the rest of the group she found herself in, drinking deeply. Why had she thought this tasted bad? It went down like water. She laughed at herself and sang the next verse, a treble cleft in a mass of bass. 

“But she was so sharp,  
And quick with bow—  
Arrows strike like a dragon.”

At the final note, she shot some small lightning bolts into the air and the tavern roared its approval for the display. She grinned broadly as a mason- _something with an R…_ \- handed her a bottle. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

She squinted at the man who was trying to get her drink away from her. Tall, broad… for a second her heart lurched and her head cleared. Focusing on his face, she breathed out and her heart settled. Not Cullen. Or Alistair for that matter. Just Fraiser. “I think I’m a Warden and we can handle more than most and keep swinging.” She ignored the slur in her words. For how much she had consumed, she was doing well. Zevran would be proud. Ogrhen would have told her she could do better. 

Solona tugged the bottle away from the templar and took a long draw by the end of which had her throat numb and her fingers tingling. Lieutenant Fraiser frowned at her, a familiar expression on unfamiliar features. “You need to go to bed.”

“I’m older than you,” she spluttered and jerked off her stool to get some room from the man who deemed to judge her. 

“Hero, wait.” Solona whirled and a blast of ice magic stopped the templar from reaching for her. She stared at the glittering pillar of ice around his hand- _she usually wasn’t good enough to do something that large by herself_ \- and started to laugh. 

“I think you misunderstand. You are supposed to have cold feet not cold hands.” Dry chuckles agreed with her assessment and Solona was whisked off to join an elf scout on a table. Together they joined Maryden in a new song, dancing on table that should have really been more solid before putting in a tavern to be danced on. 

Giggling fiercely at some snide remark the elf made, Solona finally fell from the table, strangers keeping her impact from being too hard. “Thanks,” she said, grinning at them. 

“Solona, what are you doing?”

The mage winced and with the help of her new friends, ducked behind a pillar. 

“I can still see you,” the voice she knew as well as her own these days said, lack of humor evident.

“No you can’t,” Solona disagreed, wondering what had happened to that one bottle. _Had the templar taken it? Maybe she should ask…. Nope, that would mean that he could find her and that would be an awkward situation all around. Best to avoid it._

Ignoring the gaze drilling into her skull, Solona wandered around the stairwell to join Olisha who was in the midst of a game of Wicked Grace. The woman greeted her and then returned her focus to the game at hand, grey eyes clear despite the large mug in front of her. 

Solona cheered silently- _she remembered that much_ \- as several of the other players folded till only Olisha and two others remained. She barely noticed a new body beside her until a hand gripped her elbow. “You really should go to bed.”

“And why would I do that?” Solona asked, keeping her eyes solely on the cards in front of her. She wasn’t so lubricated that she would forgot one of the reasons she was here tonight. 

“You’re drunk and if Knight-Lieutenant Fraiser comes to tell me he is concerned, then something is wrong.”

Solona hummed and cheered more externally than internally when another player dropped out. Olisha’s cards were alright, not great but easy to work with, and she seemed to be born with a bluff in her lips. 

“Don’t make me drag you out of here.”

Giving up on the game she was playing, Solona met Cullen’s gaze. He looked tired and concerned, two things she didn’t want to see written in the depths of those brown eyes. Desires warred within her but her usual practicality won out. “I will go peacefully.”

His lips twitched. “Thank you.”

The tavern was more crowded than she realized and she ended up squishing up against Cullen more often than not as they made their way out of the inebriated jolliness. Solona laughed when a large man’s arm gestures sent her spinning into Samwise the sentry, but her golden Commander- _not hers, not really_ ¬ dragged her back on their established path towards the door. 

The world outside the tavern was cool and wanting. Solona shivered and automatically turned back to the laughter and singing, only an arm blocking her way kept her from joining them again. 

“How about I walk you back to your quarters?”

 _Him walk her?_ Solona giggled and tripped over something, Cullen completing their usually comedic routine by picking her back up again. Strong hands around her waist kept her from stumbling over the steps that were pretending they weren’t made of solid stone.

Someone sighed and her feet left the ground. Strange that. Solona kicked a bit, wondering the stairs went. She was just starting to make friends with them. They were just going to go on a picnic with sandwiches… 

“You don’t do anything halfway, do you?” Cullen asked, moving relatively smoothly up the steps for a man wearing armor and carrying another human adult.

 _Halfway? Half a person? Funny Cullen... Cullen was holding her, wasn’t he?_ “I don’t know what you mean,” Solona said demurely, nuzzling her head into a hard chestplate. Cool metal pressed against her cheek and forehead, friction making her snuggling more difficult. 

“Of course you don’t,” the Commander muttered, shifting her weight. Solona grinned, head spinning pleasantly in a quiet waltz. _Opps, there goes a dip._ Leaning back, she stretched her arms and legs out. 

“Cullen, Cullen. Why are you so… Culleny?”

The templar huffed at her turning his name into an adjective. 

“Nonono...” She needed to make him understand; it was somehow important. “You are always so safe and solid, protecting and proud, a lion among deer, wolves, ravens, and dragons. What would the Inquisition do without you?”

Cullen didn’t even bother responding to her persiflage. Solona tried to roll around to her stomach so she could try to see if it was possible to swim through air. “That’s why I left you know,” she said, continuing a conversation that no one else seemed to be taking part in. Cullen’s steps slowed and she ignored the heat of his gaze as they stopped at the crest of the stairs. 

“You’re just too… you,” Solona decided out-loud, making waves with her hand since swimming seemed to be a distant possibility at this point. “So golden and kind. You could make the most resolute stone of a person fall for you and I am not nearly that impregnable.”

Her feet brushed the floor and discovering gravity, Solona pressed down, amazed at how the ground just stayed there without running off to do something more interesting. She certainly would have. Her hands clasped Cullen’s arms as he looked down at her but frankly she was more concerned with the smoothness of his plate. It shined faintly in the moon light. 

“I should be stronger. I know that. You... are too good of a friend for me to lose to this whim.” She laughed, mood turning sour. “Or at least that’s what I tell myself. I pull away but I always come back to you. I always come back…” Even if no one else did. 

Her friends… the Wardens… Zevran… Leliana…

 _Alistair…_ What was she doing?

“Solona,” Cullen murmured and placed one hand on her face, trying to get her to look at him. She shook her head and tried to pull away but the arm wrapped around her waist kept her still, pressed against another man’s body. _She couldn’t…_

Tears began their slow descent down the sides of her face, causing Cullen to begin to panic. _What had she been thinking? Of course she wouldn’t be able to keep him out of this._ Rough skinned fingers brushed the wet streaks, as if they could remove the sadness along with the tears. _How could she not drag the man she… she…_

“I’m so sorry.” The words were large, too large to keep inside any longer. They fell from her like so many weights, nearly crushing her and Cullen’s feet. She shuffled to avoid the impact but even after releasing them, the words seemed to loom over her. “I shouldn’t…” 

It occurred her that she was still, in fact, drunk. For her future peace of mind, she shouldn’t talk anymore. But... another man tried to get her to look at him, another pair of brown eyes and strong hands begging for her attention. _What had she done?_

“I’m so sorry, Alistair. I did love you. I promise I didn’t betray you.” Solona crumpled. The stone was reassuringly cold, creeping in through her robes. _Alistair needed to hear her. Surely he would understand. Surely he wouldn’t feel…_ She had loved him, so much that his death had nearly destroyed her. He had to know that. She missed him, even over a year later her chest still ached at the thought of his wide grin and insatiable humor. _Just because Cullen…_

The stone left her and she floated, rocking slightly in a cradle of stiff limbs.

_Cullen._

Her air came in gasps in between the sobs that shook her to the core. How could she be so self-centered? Betray a husband and embarrass a friend, all in one drawn-out move. She hadn’t meant it to happen but it had none the less. 

Light flickered outside her eyelids and she curled up against cool metal. She didn’t deserve the warmth or friends. 

“Get the Nightingale. The Hero is… just find the Nightingale.”

No, she didn’t want the Nightingale. She wanted her friend. But Leliana didn’t seem to exist anymore and there was nothing she could do about that. 

The world finally stabilized and Solona sleepily wondered where she was. Straining she cracked open her eyes. Colors swam and blurred before resolving into an overly familiar figure. But the face she knew so well was strange, hard. Everyone wore a mask. Solona sniffled and closed her eyes again, face buried into an unyielding chest. Maybe if she fell asleep the world would return back to normal. 

She didn’t like this version. 

oOo

Her face was warm, but that was nothing new. If anything, this felt nice; she wasn’t blushing at any rate. Heat brushed her skin with a feather, painting peace and contentment along with it. She hadn’t had this good of a morning in a long time. Probably the closest she had come was when she woke up curled in Cullen’s arms after the storm. 

_Wait a second. Cullen was…_

Tranquility ruined, Solona shot up, blinking furiously. Her head swam and she shut her eyes to the invasion of light, fingers instinctively massaging the sensitive area. The pain remained, however, lurking behind the skin and pushing at brain tissue. _She was hungover._

“What were you thinking?”

“I didn’t think you cared.” _Well, that came out wrong._

“Just because… Solona, did you really think that?” The rogue’s soft tones masked most of her emotions but a thread of hurt slipped through.

Solona sighed and cracked open her eyes. Yellow light streamed over the room, the sunlight she had been enjoying as she woke up. Leliana, dressed in her violet attire, leaned up against a desk, arms crossed over her chest. Her hood was down, making her appear more vulnerable than Solona had seen in a long time. 

“No,” the mage admitted. “Not really. But… it felt like it.”

This time it was Leliana’s turn to close her eyes, angles of her face turning down with feelings. “You shouldn’t have taken it personally. That… we all have our burdens to bear. This one is mine. I didn’t want you… I don’t need you to try to be a part of it.”

Not trusting herself to stay upright, Solona swung her legs around and carefully placed her stocking feet flat against the floor. “You heard what I said to the Inquisitor?”

The spymaster shot her a look and Solona’s headache jammed a stick into a particularly sensitive area. She winced. 

“Of course. But I worry. You are not the person I knew during the Blight. You are so hard… Leliana, I would be lying if I said you didn’t scare me when you talked about killing strangers,” Solona said, tapping her toes against the ground. They were in Cullen’s office which, if her foggy memories of last night were correct, meant that she spent the night. Again. For someone who was trying to avoid this very scenario, she was doing a horrible job. 

Leliana didn’t look at her for a long moment, staring at the floor as if it was going to disappear out from under her. As seconds passed the rogue’s hands tightened against the edge of the desk, knuckles turning white.

“People change. We may not like the change but it will happen with or without our permission. Our experiences shape us.” Blue eyes drilled in her. “I had to watch our chance at peace as well as the woman who helped me during the darkest point in my life erupt into fire and death, tearing a hole in the sky. How could the Maker turn his back on his people like that? It is because he truly doesn’t care.”

The sudden rush of energy faded and the blue arrows stopped firing. “I must do what needs to be done to make this world safe for people like you. There is no divine intervention. There is just us, struggling amongst ourselves. If that frightens you… so be it. I cannot change who I’ve decided to become.”

Despite her hardened speech, the Nightingale’s rigid posture slipped slightly. Solona looked at her friend and heaved to her feet, almost falling as her head spun. She stepped forward, shakily approaching the desk.

“Leliana…” Solona slipped and hit the desk hard, probably bruising her hip in the process. Her head beat an easy rhythm, something she could almost dance to but the pain made it difficult to put her words in the right order. Using her arms as levers, she turned her body around so she was leaning against the wooden frame. “Don’t think like that.”

An elegant brow raised slightly, waiting expectantly.

“You… and I…” Solona paused. She should really think about this. Should she—no, this was her friend even if it was sometimes impossible to see the soul she knew inside the identical body. “We will always be friends. I can’t promise to agree with your decisions, but…” Courage wrapped in a tight bundle, Solona met her friend’s eyes. Blue jewels looked back her, beautiful but not showing a hint of humanity. 

She swallowed.

“I love you, Leliana.” 

The words came out scratchy and soft, and Solona looked back down at her robes. It was a bold thing to say but hopefully… _hopefully…_ the truth of those three simple words would help whatever was going on within her friend. With Zevran gone and Josie distracted, someone needed to watch out for the woman who spent all her time and effort keeping her eyes and ears on everyone else. 

Wood creaked as Leliana pushed off the desk, pacing away from the woman huddled there. She tugged her hood up, strode to the door, and then turned, facing Solona once again. More a shadow than a person, the rogue merged with the overtones of the office, eyes dark. 

Keeping her breathing steady, Solona waited. The Orlesian seemed more like a wild animal than a person and she didn’t want to know what would happened if she startled her. 

In a blur of movement, Leliana appeared in front of her, fair skinned face barely more than a hand’s length from hers. Solona bit her lip as the woman loomed, face serene and unreadable. Then they were hugging, arms wrapped tight together as if at any moment some new threat would come to break them apart. 

“You were right,” Leliana whispered, lips brushing the mage’s shoulder. “Not about everything, but I can’t do this on my own. I can try but I only become someone the old me would have hated. Someone like Marjolaine.”

Solona couldn’t help the smile and gave her friend a squeeze. Leliana laughed softly and pulled away, smiling tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I won’t promise to go back to the person I was. My reasoning hasn’t changed. But I won’t push you away for trying as long as you try to accept me for who I am.”

“Of course.” There was no other answer. If she asked, Solona would face demons, darkspawn, and the Dark Roads. The sister, this woman, _her friend_ , deserved no less. 

Leliana seemed to sense her intentions because the tugging finally resolved into a full smile, teeth flashing. Something loosened. “Now, let's get out of here. Cullen might want to get back into his office at some point.” 

The warm feelings of the previous minute sensed a predator and fled, leaving Solona cold and alone inside her head. 

_That's right. Cullen._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, an alcohol-fueled confession is clichéd but there was no way these two were going to get a move on without drink or divine intervention and since I'm not fond of deus ex machina, this is what you get.


	27. The Consequences of Knowledge

Solona gasped for breathe as the Antivan squeezed. They were trying to kill her or at the very least, break several bones. For someone so thin, they were surprisingly strong.

“Josie…” she managed to whisper with the remaining puff of life giving air in her lungs. The ambassador let go, dark-skin beaming with unsuppressed joy.

“I don’t know how you did it, but I am so glad you did.”

Solona leaned forward, coughing as her ribs ached. “What are you talking about?”

Josephine smiled and Solona blinked as if blinded by a sun. “Of course you would wonder. It was magic but that would be too simple. Leliana laughed today. Actually laughed, not that polite thing she likes to pretend is real. Whatever you did… thank you.”

 _Ah, that._ The mage waved off the gratitude. “She is my friend. I am just glad to have her back.”

Josie said some more things but Solona felt herself drift. Her relationship with Leliana was intact but something nagged at her about last night. Yes, she had gotten drunk, that had been clear from some of the comments from soldiers and yes, Cullen had brought her to his office but something – _what was it?_ \- was off. She had done _what?_ , said _something_. But the alcohol had reduced her memory to fragments.

_Throat burning, ice cooling, metal pressed against her face._

Plus, she hadn’t seen Cullen in the hours since she had gotten up. Once she thought she had, a glimmer of red and gold on the battlements, but then it flicked into a tower. By the time she had caught up, they were gone.

Fingers snapped in front of her and a woman laughed. “Don’t disappear on me. Clearly my conversation skills are not up to holding down a distracted Hero today. What’s on your mind?”

Before she could think, Solona felt her face flushed red and Josephine’s face transformed from one of kind curiosity to hawk-like focus. Fumbling to recover before this turned into an embarrassing disaster, Solona spluttered, “Nothing. I am just tired.”

Lips twisted and Solona got the impression Josie was only just holding back from laughing at her. “Would you like me to believe that?”

Face surely going to melt at any point, the mage managed to say somewhat straight forward, “Yes.”

Josie nodded, starting to grin and Solona ducked. What did she think she knew? _Surely not…_ Then again, if Leliana might have hinted at… She did have a strange sense of humor.

Solona had just reached the door, hand closing around the handle when the ambassador called out. “Say hello to Cullen for me.”

Breaking in the face of the pressure, the mage fled, slippers slapping the ground. Her friends were too good at reading people. _Well, at least they meant well. Most of the time._

Her feet slowed part way into the Great Hall, noise she was creating become more embarrassing than the scene she had left behind. Rubbing at her face, Solona narrowly avoided bumping into a masked noble in an elaborate outfit. Orlesians were certainly colorful, she’d give them that; however, the Ferelden in her wondered how they would hike through the woods with those ruffles.

She didn’t make it far before a group of mage apprentices she had been helping to instruct found her and practically dragged the older mage into the yard, demanding to learn how to shapeshift. Apparently the story of the dragon fight had finally reached them.

Hoping Morrigan wouldn’t mind, Solona told them about shapeshifting magic the way the apostate had taught her. “You can’t want to be the animal,” she told the mass of youngsters. With more luck than anything else, she had gotten them to sit down, older ones who could have been taking their Harrowing if they were still in a Circle trickling in near the back and ones that couldn’t have been more than seven years old in the front of the assemble group. “An animal simply is. They know themselves and you need to do the same.”

Fortunately for the sanity of the rest of Skyhold, no one showed much skill at initially getting the concept. Given it had taken even Morrigan years to master the spell. The learning would take time and that would help prepare the common folk for the chaos that would ensue when they were able to change their forms.

As Solona watched several apprentices drop down on to fours in order to understand the animal they were trying to shift into, her neck prickled. The feeling continued and she shook her head, hoping it would fade. Then it clicked.

Someone was watching her.

She spun, twisting her staff in a quick spiral over her head and gathered mana into a small explosive clump, instincts of years on the road demanding that she react. Now. The head of the staff thudded against the ground and a split second later the other end wacked her upper arm, stinging fiercely.

It was Cullen.

He was dressed in his usual outfit standing at the other end of the practice yard, armor and the red lion tunic marking him for both who and what he was. At her gaze, he colored and looked away, apparently discovering something more interesting but she was not that easily convinced. She didn’t know what had happened last night, but she was going to find out.

As Cullen started to walk towards the stairs to his office, Solona turned back towards her students, telling them to continue practicing and come to her with any questions. Then, behaving very much like the dignified woman of legend, she hoisted up her robe and ran after the Commander.

She nearly lost sight of him as a group of soldiers ran by in front of her, but she made up for it skidding around a corner. His office door was unlocked.

The man seemed surprised to see her. His face changed shades but he pulled himself back together, rigid as the soldier he was. “Can I help you with something, Solona?”

Faced with the person in question, some of her reckless courage abandoned her in favor of a less risky operation. Solona bit her lip and heard the door shut behind her, effectively trapping her. There was no turning back now.

“I… just wanted to say hello. I haven’t seen you today.”

Cullen moved to his desk and ruffled through some papers. “There is a lot going on.”

“Like usual,” Solona said and then faded. This is going nowhere. She should just ask. Her inner voice sighed. She should also learn how to bake but neither of those things seemed like they would be happening anytime soon. “How have you been?”

The templar glanced at her before sitting down heavily in his chair. “Alright. The Inquisitor seems to have deescalated the situation between Nevarra and the Imperium so my job of getting our troops into the region has lessened.”

“Well that’s good to hear.” Solona waited and then breathed out in a huff. _Just go for it! What’s the worst that could have happened?_ “Cullen, did I do something weird last night? Most of it is a blur but I keep getting a nagging sensation that… well… I should remember.”

Eyes firmly on the parchment in his hand, Cullen replied, “There isn’t much to tell. You were drinking, a soldier got concerned and told me, and then I brought you here to sleep it off since it seemed easier than trying to get to the mage quarters.”

He was skipping something. Solona knew it like she knew the number of fingers on her right hand. “Did I say or do anything unusual?”

Barely missing a beat, the Commander said, “You did try to freeze Lieutenant Fraiser to the floor, which set him back a bit in his feelings towards mages but besides that, no. Nothing untoward occurred.”

She didn’t understand why, but he was lying. He was too formal and he still wasn’t looking at her. Her stomach twisted. _It was bad then. Did she really want to know?_

“Cullen, I know you’ve been avoiding me. Please tell me what I did so I can apologize and we can go back to our easy friendship.”

The man jerked slightly, face starting to match his tunic. He glared at his hands for a long moment than looked up at her finally, brown eyes earnest. Her back brushed the door, forced back by the pressure of those eyes and her hand reached out, searching for… she didn’t really know.

“You really don’t remember?”

Her head shook in response, words lost somewhere in the area of her knees.

Cullen’s hand rubbed at his shoulder before moving to its normal place at his neck. “You were out of it, barely able to tell I was there most of the time. You…” _She didn’t want to hear this._ “…said some things.” Her hand found the item it was looking for, cool metal freezing the energy coursing through her system.

“It was probably nothing,” the golden man explained, once again barely looking at her. “One of the soldiers told me how much you had in your system; frankly it was a miracle you were still standing.” The world was going dark and Cullen’s low voice was barely a whisper in her ears when he said the words she had known all along. “You… said you had feelings for me.”

 _What had she done? She couldn’t have…_ but she had. _Cullen knew…_ but he thought it was the drink. Solona heard her laughter distantly and even she could tell it didn’t sound right, a person dangling from the edge of a cliff, an endless abyss beneath. “Sorry you had to deal with that. I have no idea… what was in those drinks anyways?”

She laughed again, voice echoing strangely. Cullen just watched her, embarrassment still present but concern growing in those brown eyes.

“Solona…”

Her hand that wasn’t clutching metal waved in front of her face. “No, no. Don’t worry about it. I didn’t mean for you to know…” That wasn’t right. Words were forming in her head and spilling out of her mouth. “It’d be awkward… like this… I’m sorry, Cullen.”

She tugged on the door handle she had been gripping for the last minute and ran, tripping over flat surfaces in her haste to leave the warm space that was too much of Cullen for her to handle. Her surroundings blurred. She needed a safe place. Somewhere to hide. She found it and shut the door with a soft thud, closing herself off from the world.

oOo

Leliana found her of course some time later. She comforted her and let her panic for probably too long before reminding Solona of her age and the fact that she couldn’t hide in the rogue’s room forever. Solona’s face warmed at the truth and agreed to come out in time for supper. Even the Nightingale seemed to understand that she needed to be able to adjust to her new reality before potentially facing Cullen again.

After giving a tight hug, the spymaster left, giving her friend her space without even asking what the problem was. Solona wasn’t sure if that was because Leliana already knew or just because she was being nice but either way she was grateful.

_Cullen knew._

Her thoughts kept circling back to those two inescapable words. She had kept the truth from herself for so long and now the object of her affections was aware.

Interestingly enough, her horror and embarrassment over the passing of information was seconded by her despair of potentially losing Cullen as a friend. That in itself was worthy of some serious consideration. She would probably be jumpy around him for a while but she could get used to it, continuing on as they always had. Cullen was so honest though, would he be able to?

Leliana and Cullen. They had taken care of her from the first moment she had stumbled into Skyhold over a year ago. She understood, with the type of knowledge that comes with having lost someone important, that she could go on without them, but that didn’t mean she wanted to. Yes, they were crutches of a sort but as her world slowly came back into sorts, what would happen if she lost them?

Look what happened when she thought Leliana was gone from her life.

Solona sighed, burring her head in her knees at the end of the rogue’s bed. She really needed to learn how to react better. Alcohol was not the answer. She knew better and yet she fell into the same rut as before.

And now she was mopping about it. Again.

Frustration brought her to feet. _That’s it._ Her dramatics were done; she was a grown woman, not some apprentice chasing after a crush. Leliana was right. Both she and Cullen were adults; they could handle it like mature people they were.

_Right._

Having a feeling that maturity was easier thought than actually done, Solona ran a hand through her hair and with a deep breath, left the Nightingale’s chamber.

The dining room was full, crammed with dignitaries who weren’t too high and mighty to eat in their rooms and several of the higher ranking branches of officers. A cook’s assistant directed her to the line for food and Solona filled her plate with fresh vegetables from Ferelden and some bread from their own kitchen. One of the soldiers from the Hinterlands waved at her and Solona rambled over to their table, purposely not looking at the flicker of red at one of the tables at the head of the room.

At least Cullen was eating. That was always a good sign.

Her table welcomed her into their discussion of rulers. These were good people, very few actually have been in the same building as royalty but they still had their opinions. Of course, their nationality placed a part in it as well. The Fereldens said Anora was better because she was straight-forward while the Orlesians liked Celene because she could play the Game for the win.

Solona smiled as they talked, agreeing with a lot of it. She had met both the queens, Anora more than once. They were more similar than the soldiers or even the woman themselves would admit. Both were determined, strong, ruling by their own power instead of letting someone else dictate how to live their lives. She couldn’t say that she liked Anora and even she could tell Celene wasn’t to be trusted, but in some ways she admired them.

“At least Prince Vael follows the Chant.”

“After breaking his vows as a brother.”

“To avenge his family’s death!” The soldier said, banging his cup for emphasis. Solona nibbled on her bread, curious at the shift in conversation.

The Dalish elf laughed- _why did she think of dancing when she looked at her_ -, pulling her lips back to flash her teeth at the man. “So he betrayed his immortal duties for petty vengeance? Does your Maker approve of such things?”

Before the argument could escalate further, a scout chipped in with a comment on the new viscount of Kirkwall who was promising a resolution to the chaos that had reigned there these last few years. Remembering a recent letter from Varric, Solona mentioned the living conditions had improved slightly with the new ruler and the conversation was successfully diverted.

Although the discussion tore her attention away from concerns closer to Skyhold, Solona found them waiting for her the moment she stepped away from the table.

The templar was standing at the doorway leading away from the dining hall, leaning on the wall near the opening like some sort of sentry. What resolve she had gathered in Leliana’s room fled, going to the other exit. Solona was tempted to follow but Cullen had spotted her and if she was going to try to recover their friendship, the least she could do was talk to him. It had to happen at some point.

Or she could just go back to hiding. That was always an option.

Stomach practicing acrobatics, Solona walked over to where the Commander fiddled with a silver coin. His fingers fumbled when she got close, nearly dropping the shiny piece of metal, but he managed to catch it, tucking the coin into a pocket.

“I thought we should… talk,” Cullen said, eyes roaming the dining hall yet focusing on nothing.

“Of course.” Solona stepped back as he pulled away from the wall and they set out with enough space in between them to fit at least one other person.

The hallways were well-lit, torches at frequent intervals as they walked through the tunnel of cut-stone but it still felt dark, shadows flickering at their feet. Solona clasped her hands in front of her for a dozen paces and then itched her arm, curling fingers in for the next dozen. Voices echoed in the distance, some louder than others, but strangely enough, the only talking in the hallway was the flames, crackling with poetic imagery in words that she couldn’t quite make out.

“I um…” Cullen began then stopped, staring straight ahead as his hands opened and closed into fists. Several more quiet steps and he sighed. “I thought this would be easier.”

He peeked at her, not quite turning his head and then blushed at her expression. “N...not that I thought it would be easy… It’s not l…like this… I don’t...” A grimace as they rounded a corner, a pair of soldiers walking towards them. Cullen waited till they passed before continuing in softer voice. “I can’t say I have much experience with… this and I don’t want to mess it up before you… well, I wanted…”

“Commander! Hero!” A messenger yelled distantly, stopping Solona’s heart attack. Cullen stopped, face turning stormy and she repeated his inaction, barely able to keep her head on straight to recognize the Inquisition member who skidded to a stop in front of them, breathing hard.

“What?” the Commander demanded. The messenger saluted, unaffected by his superior’s anger. “Bandits just attacked a caravan on the main path from Orlais. The Inquisitor wants you two to join him in the War Room immediately.”

“Of course they did,” Cullen gritted out. “Tell the Inquisitor we will be there shortly.” When the messenger remained, he added in a bark of authority, “Now!”

The poor man ran off, figure shrinking before disappearing around a corner. Cullen sighed and rubbed his knuckles into his brow. “It never ends.” A single brown eye opened to glanced at her. “We should probably go get this situation back under control.”

“Probably,” Solona agreed, unable to think or feel.

Should she be relieved or disappointed?


	28. Unbearable Searches

A black metal figure slammed onto the map, threatening to tear a rift in the triangles of the Frostback Mountains. Maxwell’s hand covered a good portion of the rest, fingers curled predatorily. 

“I want them dead,” he hissed. “Strung up and quartered on the walls of Skyhold so that the world will know what happens when you threaten the Inquisition.” Solona and Leliana exchanged a look as Josephine reached around to rest a hand on her would-be husband’s back. He barely seemed to notice.

“Leliana, what do you know?”

Feet braced a pace apart, Leliana crossed her arms behind her back. “My people have heard little about bandits in the Frostbacks, but they must have gotten soldiers and supplies from somewhere. We will find them.”

Figures went flying as Maxwell swept them off the table in a single stroke. “If you had done your job, none of this would have happened. You are supposed to tell me before disaster strikes.” The Nightingale’s eyes hardened but before she could reply Josie spoke, “Leliana can’t know everything and be everywhere and you can’t expect her to. Some things will fall through the cracks.”

“She is supposed to be the best. I expect results.”

“What was in the caravans?” Solona asked, forcing herself to get involved before the Inquisitor could take more of his rage out on his spymaster.

Maxwell sighed heavily, weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders as he leaned away from the table. “Not what but who. Several influential members of the Orlesian nobility… all slaughtered. We only know about it because a passing patrol saw smoke and went to investigate. The bandits burned everything. We don’t even know what they took. I thought the caravan was late because Orlesians are notoriously slow but if I had only wondered sooner this might never have happened.”

“It’s not your fault,” Josephine murmured, rubbing his back. 

“You’re right. It’s the bandits. And I will see them pay for it. Commander, I want you to gather what troops we have. Every inch of the mountains will be searched until they are found. Leliana, track down where they might have come from. Josephine, I want you to get our allies to set up searches around the base of the mountains. They will not get away from us.

“And Solona.” Maxwell finished setting the small pieces up on the map, bending down to pick a few up off the floor. “I have heard of some of your more unusual abilities. You can scout out the mountains better than almost anyone we have at our disposal. The bandits will never expect a wolf or bear to be spying on them. I want you out with the search parties.”

Solona nodded, trying not to think of the days of trekking through snow that she had to look forward to. _So many people killed…_ She would do what she could to help. 

“Commander, I want our people out there within the week. Make it happen.”

“Inquisitor, wouldn’t it be better to use our resources more rationally? My agents can—“

Maxwell glared at his spymaster. “People who were supposed to be under my protection died. All our work over the last few years to extend the Inquisition’s influence is wasted if we don’t act decisively. Now go. We have a lot to do and little time to do it in.”

Effectively dismissed, Solona made sure to end up walking next to Leliana. She knew it was immature but she didn’t know if she could take another conversation with Cullen at this point. With the Nightingale present, surely he wouldn’t attempt to talk to her. 

“Are you alright?” she asked, needing to be concerned about someone other than herself. The spymaster nodded sharply though her face was still too much of a stranger’s for Solona to really believe her. 

“I will be better when my people start giving me information on these so-called bandits,” Leliana said, leading the way to the rookery.

Solona blinked at the implications, running a little to catch up with the rogue’s determined pace. “You don’t believe they’re simple bandits?”

A snort. “It’s my job to doubt everything. There are a number of merchants moving on that pass from here to Orlais. Why attack that one unless they knew who was on it? It might not have anything to do with us, an old rival getting revenge, but then again, maybe someone wants to weaken us. The Inquisition looms in a lot of minds; it would not be far-fetched to develop enemies who wish us to back off.”

 _She hadn’t even considered…_ This is why Leliana was the spymaster. “Does it ever get tiring to suspect everyone?”

Leliana laughed as they reached the top of the stairs. “I know my friends and those who I can trust, which are often not the same thing. So, no. I am used to it.”

Solona paused from their assault on the steps, breathing hard. The rogue was, of course, at complete ease, calling for certain ravens and walking to her desk to start to scribble out her messages. Dragging in a gasp, Solona joined the procession of assistants, humming to ravens as bits of parchment were tied to their ankles. Sharp claws raked at her arm and she sneezed several times as feathers tickled her nose. 

Showing more compassion that she did for almost anything else these days, Leliana cooed at ravens. “Baron Plucky, have you been a good boy? Of course. Here's some bread. Oh, Mistress Black, have you found a new love? The last one was so fickle. Sorry, Pumpkin, we can’t cuddle today. We have work to do.” 

In what only felt like a few minutes but was definitely longer than that, they were done, rookery missing a significant number of ravens that it had started with. Leliana gave some orders to the agents left standing and leaned against her desk with a sigh. 

“Hopefully, we will have some news back before you set out tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Solona asked, a bit confused. She didn’t remember anything being mentioned that soon. 

Leliana rolled her shoulders. “Why of course. Our dear Commander is nothing if not efficient. If he doesn’t have almost all his people out by sundown, I should just quit right now. You better go get some sleep. It will be a late night for the rest of us.”

Understanding her reasoning but not wanting to leave the sister alone, Solona lingered. “Will you be okay?”

“I’m not a doll,” Leliana said then softened. “Of course. I will manage. Don’t worry about me. Just take care of yourself for the next few weeks. You’ll need to keep your guard up in the Frostbacks. Even bears have enemies.”

Hunters. Solona shivered at the thought of an arrow hitting her out of nowhere. A well-placed shot and it would be all over.

“I’ll do my best.”

oOo

As predicted, squads of six to ten soldiers started leaving Skyhold by midmorning, larger groups by afternoon as supply wagons started to rumble over the bridge towards the snowy abyss. According to the orders circling, more groups would be going out in the days to come but the majority would be out before nightfall. _Leliana is right again._

Her small pack had been gathered before she had gone to sleep in Leliana’s room and the Commander had arranged the supply trains so there was nothing really for her to do but wait for her team to move out. After watching yet another group of soldiers gallop off, she left the landing above the bridge, heading to the practice area. She needed to test her shapeshifting magic.

The majority of the Inquisition had other things to do with their time today so Solona was startled to hear the repetitious thumps of arrows hitting a target. They were frequent enough that it had to be at least two archers practicing, perhaps in some sort of competition.

She turned the corner to the firing range and paused. She had been mistaken; there was only one person practicing. 

Maxwell Trevelyan loosed arrows like he had a horde of darkspawn running towards him, the feathered shafts no more than blurs moving from his quiver to his hand to the center of the target that was starting to resemble a small pocky creature rather than a flat board.

Arrow after arrow slammed against the cushioned wood until the slender but calloused hand reached up and grasped only air. 

“Are you alright?”

Dark eyes turned to her as if seeing her for the first time. Maxwell frowned then sighed, lines on his face smoothing like water. 

“I’ve been better,” the man said, walking to the target with bow still in hand. Solona followed.

Fade-filled hand braced against the wood, the Inquisitor yanked on one of the arrows. It came out with a soft crunch. He stared at the death instrument for a moment before putting it back into his quiver with a practiced motion.

Needing something to do, Solona grabbed one of the arrows and tugged. The arrow didn’t budge. She tried again, using both hands this time and pulled, leaning back. Before a slab of wood could out-smart her a second time, she felt something give and then she was on her back, a single arrow still clutched in her hands. 

The Inquisitor stared at her for a second. His lips twitched. With a groan, Solona climbed back to her feet and passed her prize over to him. She glared at the board, wondering if there was a spell to make this easier.

“What did you do when Virgil’s Keep was almost razed to the ground?” 

She spared the target her gaze for a moment, switching instead to the dark-haired man. He wasn’t looking at her, instead focusing on yanking out another one of his arrows. “What do you mean?”

Maxwell didn’t answer, instead pushing his hair away from his forehead. His fingers traced the arrow’s length, ruffling the feathers and testing the tip against his skin.

“You were their leader, yet you were unable to do anything as they died. What did you do?”

_More bodies dead than alive. Some pretending to live, walking through the smoke and remains but their eyes told the truth. They were long gone._

The truth was hard, bitter in her mouth. That decision still haunted her dreams sometimes, especially the Warden ones. 

“I focused on rebuilding the Keep so nothing like that would ever happen again.” She had failed the people in her care, there should have been something she could have done to save them both, but even now she didn’t know what it could be. Until Alistair rode in, panic written on every feature did she begin to recover, the loss slowly being filled in with kindness and laughter. 

But that didn’t mean she hadn’t seen the list of names almost every time she had closed her eyes for the next few months.

Maxwell humphed, plucking out the arrows with ease now. She tried to help with one and still almost crashed for her attempt. “Do you really think it is that simple?” 

Solona rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand. Of course it wasn’t simple. But there was nothing else she really had. You either moved on or you didn’t. After everything the Inquisition had been through, he knew that. 

“No. But you need to focus on something productive. Let those who care for you be there for you and time will take care of the rest.”

As the Inquisitor frowned at the ground, time seemed to shift. Instead of being people relatively close to the same age, she was now someone who was supposed to be old and wise, he some new recruit fresh into the fray. It wasn’t comfortable but there was something comfortingly human about it. 

“Talk to Josie,” she said softly. “If she is willing to be your wife, she will want to help.”

Maxwell smiled, anguish at his failure fading. “She is remarkable in that way. She makes me feel like I am a better man, one who deserves….I don’t know…” He shook his head. “We probably don’t have time for this kind of thing. There is still work to be done.” 

As she turned to leave, her steps were interrupted by one final comment. “Thank you.” 

“Of course, Inquisitor.”

oOo

Solona was placed in a group of primarily fast moving rouges who would serve as one of the links between parties, making sure everyone reported in frequently. To the mage’s surprise, they knew or were already informed about her shapeshifting skill. Several made comments on how useful that was but little else was said about it, nothing in allusion to possible blood magic, for which she was grateful. 

She barely saw Cullen before she got her horse and attached her bag to the saddle, just a few glimpses of him giving orders and making sure everything ran as smoothly as possible. Solona climbed up onto the animal, marveling at the ease which just a year ago would have been impossible. She couldn’t say she was used to the creatures yet or even preferred them to walking, but for fast travel, it was hard to deny that they were better.

“Everyone ready?” The head of their party asked, a veteran scout from the Anderfels with more scars than wrinkles. A course of affirmations sent them forward, moving their horses at a walk. Solona turned to look back at Skyhold’s yard. She would miss more than the mattresses here. 

Brown eyes caught hers from across the grassy area and Solona’s thoughts sputtered out. Lips tugged into a smile and after a second, she copied the motion. _Something else to miss._ The jerking of her horse forced her to pay attention to what was happening in front of her for a moment, but when she glanced over her shoulder, Cullen had started talking to a scout, no longer trying to pull her back to him with only his eyes. 

_There is no doubt now_ , Solona mused as she gripped her reins and adjusted her seat as the group transitioned into a trot. Despite everything that urged her against it, her mind, her guilt, and the honest friend, she had fallen and fallen hard. This wasn’t a crush that time would easily allow her to forget. As much as she didn’t want to deal with pain, maybe when she got back Cullen would put her down easily as he probably was going to do earlier before they were interrupted. She would force herself to hear him and everything would return to normal. 

Legs already protesting that she was going to be living on the road after just getting back, Solona threw her thoughts of the templar out her head, determined to concentrate instead on staying on her horse. It was going to be a tough trip.

oOo

“Are you sure you’ll be alright on your own, Hero? The Nightingale wouldn’t want…”

Solona smiled at the scout whose words faded at the expression. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be back within a day or two. Just be careful not to shoot any creature unless it seems like it is going to attack you.”

The woman didn’t look convinced but she saluted sharply. In some cases, it was good to have a title. Solona took cover behind some trees, shedding everything but her cloak and boots. She hopped a bit to try to keep her sensitive feet off the ground but still managed to leave several footprints in the snow. Folding her socks and underclothes into her robe, Solona carefully walked back to the group. Her old friend John took the clothing which he would add along with her other items to her pack when she had left. He and one of the warriors would establish a sort of basecamp where Scout Harding would be joining them in a few days. 

Even though the cold wasn’t quite as brutal as it was in the winter, the Frostbacks weren’t known for their comfort. Solona nodded at the leader of their group and began to weave spells, green light swirling around her hands. It was interesting how much longer it seemed to take to cast when she and the people she cared about weren’t in immediate danger. 

Everything clicked into place and magical energy coursed underneath her skin. Solona breathed, air coming out in an emerald puff. This was the hard part; the thing that took years to master and turned away mages who needed to see instant results for their efforts. 

Closing her eyes, Solona concentrated on the creature she wished to become, trying to feel what they would, be as they would be… The feeling stretched out as her skin cackled, demanding to change, needing it. Solona hissed finally, knowing that she hadn’t mastered that particular animal. Dragging her mindset through mud and brambles, she switched to something completely different. Something with fur and paws that traversed these paths unafraid as it knew of nothing that would come against it. 

Her body began to shift without her realizing it- _of course this was how she was to look_ \- and she almost forgot to get loosen the tie at her neck and kick off her boots, cold no longer affecting the thick pads at the bottom of her four limbs. She shook her head as her front paws hit the ground. 

_She needed to remember who she was. It could be dangerous going this long in a form that wasn’t her own. Or was this one it?_

_Focus Solona._

The metaled two-legs backed away from her and she sniffed at them, only slightly curious. She had seen them before, they were nothing to be exciting about. 

An older and braver one said something, words buzzing in Solona’s fuzzy ears. She flicked them irritably. _What was the two-legged going on about?_ It repeated the noise, again and again, hairless limbs waving. _She should know this, shouldn’t she?_ Concentrating, she listened.

“…Two days… here…” The words flickered in and out of the nonsensical jumble as if coming from a great distance and through a river. Solona wrapped her mind around the foreign notions, things she could not touch. _She couldn’t forget this._ Back to this spot in two after two sleeps. She could do that. 

Bopping her head at the two-legged creatures, Solona waddled off, not sure where she was going but not really caring at the same time. It was summer. Food would be around. 

Several bushes of berries, a long nap, and then some fish later, Solona was walking across a particularly high ridge when a new scent wafted through the air. It was more two-legs. They were everywhere it seemed. Solona was content to ignore them, but she still spotted a group of them in what looked like furless-skin clothing. She wondered at those poor creatures which didn’t have fur of their own that they had to steal other animals. It was kind of silly. They should just grow some.

Like they should, when they saw her, they changed their route so it would get them farther away. Bored, Solona went back to her forging. 

To her surprise, barely more than a day later she encountered some more of the creatures. Her nose twitched in irritation. She didn’t really want to mess with them right now. Winter was coming after all. She only had a few months to prepare before she would have to go to sleep. 

These creatures weren’t content to let her be, a small one with bright hair that made Solona think of a fresh kill waved some not-skin at her. Solona shied away from the movement, uneasy. _What happened to their mutual stay-away-from understanding?_ It had worked so well thus far.

The creature squawked at her, strange sounds spilling from their mouth. After a moment, Solona sat on her hide legs and watched at the other two-legs scurry about. There was something oddly familiar about them. Curiosity pulsed dully at the back of her mind and she stepped forward to sniff the not-skin. It smelled… like her!

_She was a two-leg!_

Realization hitting her like a shield to the face of a new recruit, Solona collapsed, limbs twitching as her body shifted. Her paws… _no, hands…_ clawed at the ground, desperate for the transition to stop as it squeezed her form down…. down… in to something lesser. Something that wasn’t quite an animal.

Solona gasped into the wet grass, scarcely aware when her body finished its tumultuous passage. Blades stuck to her face as she closed her eyes and then opened them, colors looking strange. Something fluttered over her, a soft pressure on softer fur---skin. She was human. 

“Hero?” A female voice asked softly, unsure. Solona couldn’t blame the woman, she was scarcely sure herself. _Never be an animal for that long again._ The thought slid through her thoughts, condensing as it went until it turned into a promise to herself. _Just because Morrigan can do it doesn’t mean that you can._

“Get her some water,” someone said and stiffly Solona sat up, blinking in sights she just saw with different eyes. People turned away and half-a-second later, she realized that the cloak she had been covered with was no longer concealing anything. _That’s right… two legs-- no, I care about wearing clothing._ Barely able to get the joints of her fingers to move, Solona managed to pull the cloak back over her chest. 

A thick canteen came down into her field of vision and Solona grabbed it, fumbled for a second, and then guzzled it down, water splashing down her chin. The container was empty by the time she remembered that people were supposed to drink without spilling. 

“Do you need help getting up?” Scout Harding asked, looking down at her. Solona processed the words and nodded. The woman was short but strong, hoisting the mage up with apparent ease. Solona staggered and Harding allowed her to lean against the smaller frame for the precious seconds she needed to regain the knowledge on how to balance on two legs. 

One of the Inquisition present, another female mage, came forward and helped Solona to a tent where she got to struggle with more clothes. In more time than she cared to think about, she reemerged from the tent, feeling more human and less like a bear. 

She paused, staring at large clearly-circular patch of brown grass amidst the snow. “Is that where…?” Talking still felt a bit strange but luckily Scout Harding understood. “Yes. It was an impressive trick.” Solona bobbed her head, reaffirming her previously made promise. _Never again._

“Is it too soon to ask if you saw anything or do you need to be unbearable for another minutes?” The mage that followed Solona out of the tent groaned and Harding grinned. Solona watched, waiting for her word sense to catch up. 

Unbearable. Because she had been a bear. _Oh._

“I think I can manage,” she said finally, walking slowly with Harding to where a makeshift table with maps had been set up. 

Her human mind must have been almost done processing things because it only took a couple of seconds before the scribbles on the table made sense to her. Trailing back through her memories as a bear was harder though, words blurring for a frightening second. The fact that the maps weren’t highly detailed didn’t help her figure out the translation any quicker either.

“I believe I saw some people around this area,” Solona said, pointing at a section of the map. “Though I can’t say for sure if they were bandits or if it was exactly here. Two-legs look almost exactly alike to a bear. But they were… wearing leather I think, something different than the Inquisition wears and I don’t think they were Avvar, they would have blended in better.”

Scout Harding concentrated and then smiled. “That’s good. With the recent snowfall, we were having a hard time tracking anything down. At least now we have a point to work with, even if they had a ways to go to get to their camp.”

She paused, freckled face growing concerned. “Do you need some time before you go out again? It looked like that took a lot out of you.”

The words ‘I’m fine’ almost came out of Solona’s mouth but she stopped them just in time. “A day’s rest would be good,” she admitted. 

“Then a day’s rest you will have. Two if you want since you saved our people at least that. Believe it or not, mountains take a while to scout. There are just too many places for people to hide, not to mention the aggressive creatures that…” Harding trailed off. “But what am I doing? You don’t need to hear my excuses, you need to rest. Enchanter Felicity will take care of you.”

The female mage who had helped with the clothes earlier smiled at Solona, who pulled her lips up in a greeting of her own. Sleep sounded good.

oOo

After sleeping over twelve hours and eating a reassuringly human breakfast, Solona stood several paces away from the still obvious patch of bare grass in their camp, gearing herself mentally for another transformation. She couldn’t and wouldn’t do a bear again. It was too soon and she didn’t want to know what it would do to her mental state. Instead she tried the creature she failed at before. 

_Curious and determined. The air beneath my wings._ Solona breathed and the spell swept across her, shrinking tissues down into something else. Cloth pressed down on her and she squawked as everything went dark. _Was it night?_

A moment later the sun reappeared and Solona shook out her feathers, cleaning a spot at the base of her right wing. She glanced at the featherless creature and chirped a greeting, disappointed when they gave none in return. 

No matter, she had things to do anyhow. 

Doing an experimental flap, Solona pushed herself into the sky, joy rising with every beat of her wings. This was freedom. 

Terrain that had taken her an hour to ramble across the day before now was a matter of minutes. Solona sang a quick tune, wanting everyone to know just how amazing the power of flight was. Everyone should be happy who could fly. The muscles of her wings grew tired and she alighted on a tree to let them rest before setting off again. 

Small flocks of those poor featherless creatures passed beneath her and she took a current of air up further into the mountains, spiraling into the sky. 

Spotting something beneath her, she aimed downwards. It was more featherless animals surrounded by trees without branches or leaves. Strange that. Solona landed on the top of one of the trees, pecking curiously at the wood. 

It was definitely a tree.

Some of the creatures were watching her so she chirped at them friendly and after a second they turned away, ignoring her. Solona watched them go, unavian thoughts working through her mind like molasses. Determining that there were no treats to be gotten here, she pushed herself back into the blue expanse of freedom, flipping in a bout of unexplainable excitement. 

She was amazing, flying was amazing, the world was just amazing. 

The currents carried her a good amount of the way back, she only had to stop twice, wings burning faintly. Brightly colored hair greeted her return and Solona sang happily as she landed, hoping for a treat. When none was forth-coming, her thoughts shifted, becoming strangely not cheerful.

As her weight increased exponentially, she fell backwards off the wood-but-not-a-tree object she had been perched on, back hitting the ground with a painful ‘thunk’. Her mind took less time to return to normal than the previous day and she quickly tied her cloak back around her neck, getting to her feet.

Scout Harding looked at her expectantly and Solona smiled, pulling lips away from her not-beak mouth.

“I found the camp.”


	29. Attack on Bandits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: brief graphic violence. I've changed the tags.  
> Trigger warning part 2: Swiss cheese has less holes than this chapter. Just ignore the gapping plot hole on top of a plot hole on top of a plot hole and you should be fine.

Scout Harding sent off several ravens and Solona struggled not to feel wistful as they flew off into the cold sky. She was human and despite the occasional lapse, she would always be human. She shouldn’t remember the strain of currents underneath her feathers with such fondness. It was a lot of work to fly, as Cullen had once pointed out.. 

“So I had a question,” Harding began, distracting the mage. Solona pulled herself out of the air to focus on the conversation. 

“What’s up with you and Cullen?” Birds chirped and she rashly wondered what the repercussions would be to transform this soon after the last one. She pinched her nose, trying to get herself to focus.

Harding waved her hands. “Not that I mean anything by it. You guys spend just so much time together and I just curious.”

 _It’s fine. You’re fine. You’re over thinking it._ “We’re just friends. When we were in the Circle, any friendly mage-templar interaction was forbidden and I… like his company. He’s a good guy.”

The redhead smiled at her. “A good guy?” 

“Yes.” A very good guy. There was no doubt of that.

Harding laughed softly and started outlining their attack on the map. _Light striking golden hair and a slight curve of the lips._ She joined the scout at the table. 

“Do you have everything planned out?”

“Just about.” She moved a piece over and circled an area that hadn’t been mapped yet. “We don’t know if they have any escape routes and the Inquisitor was very specific about not letting them get away.”

The map received a death glare for a long moment. “I hate to ask this, but you do think you could do some more scouting for us? Maybe a bird’s eye view of the camp? We just need to know what we are up against before we start sending our people in there.”

Solona considered it. Shapeshifting wasn’t a well-known school of magic. Mages under Chantry control considered it too close to blood magic to study and with the College trying to at least stay friendly with the new Divine, there wouldn’t be much in the future as well. No one should suspect a random animal of spying. 

“I can do that,” she said finally. 

Harding grinned. “Undercover mage. Sounds like one of Varric’s novels.”

The mage in question just shook her head, amused by the idea of her being subject of an adventure story. She wasn’t that interesting.

The day trickled by as the teams came in. Solona had enough instincts to start keeping her hand near her purse with this many rogues about. Not that she thought they needed money so much that they would steal from her, it was more of an acknowledge meant that rogues often did things just to see if they could. It was something that defined their class, despite any differences in their individual personality. 

A particularly large raven swooped over Solana’s head and she yelped as talons brushed her hair, ducking. Harding cooed at the animal, convincing it to allow her close enough to its perch at the end of the table for her to retrieve the message from its leg. 

“It’s from the Inquisitor,” the scout announced. Blue eyes scanned the small sip of paper, dissecting the coded message. “We are to wait until he arrives.”

Calculations of weather and road conditions worked themselves out in Solana’s mind. “But he won’t be here for several days,” she said finally. “Anything could happen during that time.”

“At least we will be able to gather some more information. I doubt our Inquisitor will be in the mood for retreats.”

Considering his earlier fury, Solana thought the dwarf was right. She watched yet another group come into their camp, some riding white halla. Surely some more time wouldn’t that be that bad.

Especially if it kept her away from Cullen for a little while longer. 

oOo

Soft snowflakes were falling when Solana got out of the tent she was sharing with Felicity, dusting the world with a renewing white. Dipping her head back, she closed her eyes and allowed her skin to be kissed by the freezing substance.

It was a good day to scout.

Harding confirmed her thought and helped her to gather several other agents to go with her. Solana would infiltrate the encampment while they made better maps of the surrounding area.

Horses would be too obvious, so the small party set off on foot, crunching through fresh snow only to have their tracks covered within minutes. Despite staring at the map for hours and flying over this area, Solona had no idea where she was, falling to the back of the group as they hiked.

She knew several of the party members but not all, these were the type of people who spent almost all their time out in the field. Unfortunately she was soon too out of breathe for small talk and barely managed to pant out asking them their names. Every so often the snow would become too much and she would have to shake off her cloak before it turned her into a mobile hill. Which, she reflected, wouldn’t be so bad for scouting missions. She could just sneak into the enemy’s camp as part of the landscape. 

Eventually as her legs burned and her breathe was coming in gasps from what had seemed like almost vertical climbs, the scout leading the group stopped.

“This is where we part,” she announced. “Meet back here in three hours and remember, don’t let them see you.” 

The three other rogues nodded at the obvious advice and split up. Solona watched them blur into their surroundings and basically disappearing from sight. They were good, but that is why Harding picked them. 

“Are you ready, Hero?” the remaining member asked. For an answer, the mage unclipped her cloak, handed it to the woman, and with a quick glance around-it was not like everyone hadn’t seen it at this point- tugged off her robe, quickly wrapping her cloak back around her as snow began to melt against her skin.

Her smallclothes came next, warm from her body. Socks came with some hops as she tried not to step in the snow. Already shivering, Solona began her spells, wind threatening to turn her into an icicle before she finished.

_Wind below her, pushing skywards. A ready song to be shared with the world._

The spell faltered and before it fail, she switched to a different animal. Magic caught and spun around her and Solona almost missed getting her boots off, fumbling with the ties of her cloak, fingers too thick.

Balance off, her front legs hit the ground and she danced to the side. Something yanked on her neck and she yelped as she fell, rolling. 

Happy noises and a human helped to untangle her, pulling the soft thing off her neck. Solona shook, glad to be free from her constraints. She looked up at the familiar human, tongue and tail wagging. More happy noises and a hand began to rub her head. 

_That felt so good_ , Solana thought as the fingers relaxed her into a fluffy puddle. She barked and licked the human’s hands. 

Didn’t she have something to do? 

The reminder sent her trotting off, leaving the person to fend for themselves. She could smell the dried blood that they hadn’t quite managed to get off out of their uniform. They were a fighter so hopefully they would be okay for a little while.

A small distant part of Solona that remained was amazed at how much of a dog’s world was smells. She still see things, not as well as human could and certainly not as well as bird but her sense of smell and hearing more than made up for what she lacked. She could hear the footsteps of scouts that had gone off before her, stepping through the thick snow. Some distance away, a rabbit sprinted into their den.

The wind brought in the scents of pine trees and cold to her waiting nose. The world was such a large place. She stopped to sniff the base of tree and her human self barely managed to convince the rest of her that marking it was a bad idea. 

Even if she wasn’t quite sure where she was headed, it wasn’t too long before the thick smell of humans and smoke filled the wintery air, overshadowing almost everything else. It took almost no effort to follow the smell through the sparse woods, climbing uphill till the scent was practically unbearable. She had reached the camp. 

The barrier separating the bandits from the rest of the world was taller than she remembered from her time as a bird. It stretched far above her head, large tree trunks bound together into a formidable wall. Ignoring the dwarfing feeling, she trotted over to the small gap between trees. Two guards watched her approach. Several paces away from the men with metal sticks, she sat back on her hind legs and barked a greeting. 

For a long moment men and dog stared at each other, waiting for see who would move first. Then several of the guards grinned and extended their hands at her, talking softly. Knowing it was what they wanted, Solona came forward and sniffed their hands. They smelled of blood, old bread, mud, and magic. She didn’t know how she knew, but these men were not mages.

Those must have been somewhere else.

A hand stroked her head and it took all her human reasoning not to snap at it. They may have been dog-people but they were not her people.

Trotting past the wall, she entered the main camp. Peopled yelled after her, producing happy noises but no one tried to stop her. Despite growing apprehension at getting further away from freedom, she kept her tail wagging. It wouldn’t do to seem unfriendly.

This area contained several smoky buildings and rugged men. One cloister was fire and clanking which the human corner of her mind registered as a smith. Overall the people in this area weren’t pack alphas so she kept moving forward.

The scent of magic grew stronger and she climbed up a short incline plane to the next area. These buildings were more solid and instead of bread she smelled spices. These humans were darker skinned and thin, different than the people she knew. These were cat-people.

A gust of wind had Solona rapidly turning, paws churning the snow. Magic and blood drew her to a nondescript structure, peeking through the open door.

Humans raised their voices and she could almost taste the violence in the air. Her tail dropped.

A female in an elaborate robe-a mage- stood before a man covered enough dirt to almost mask the faint scent of perfume. Orlesian. Several other flowery individuals were grouped together behind the man, all healthy. The smell of blood was both old and new, dried onto the ground and creating damp spots on the cloth on the man’s shirt.

More yelling and the man raised his hand, blade glinting in the darkness. It came down and gasps turned to chokes. Solona dropped to the ground, whining softly. A thump and the body that used to be living began to cool. She didn’t want to be here anymore.

The woman said something and the perfume smell strengthened as one of the captives started to cry. A hostile gaze dropped onto her and Solona half-heartedly wagged her tail. Anger and she started to creep away. The smell of blood and somehow Solona could feel the Veil weaken. 

Her human mind screamed at the dog mind and they both ordered her feet to move. Not worrying what people thought, Solona loped down the hill and darted past the guards. _Get away, bad things are coming!_

No one else was running or even seemed concerned as the Veil writhed and stretched. Her fur bunched at her neck and she leapt past the people at the gate, deepening her run as things with claws reached out, trying to break through the increasingly thin barrier. 

_She needed to get away, she needed to find safety, she needed…_

_She needed to warn people._

The part of her that remained human pushed animal instincts, remembering her duty. Her paws could have been lead as she forced them to change directions. She barely needed to use her nose to pick up where the scouts were. The snow had slowed so there was nothing except the occasional squirrel to distract her from her mission.

It didn’t take long to find the lone female climbing down from a large tree. She took one look at Solona and started digging in her matching white bag. Cloth flapping, she whipped it out and threw it over Solona. 

Hot and stuffy. Solona sneezed then concentrated, trying to remember what it was like to stand on two-legs. Seemed hard to balance.

Her body shifted, pulling apart and stretched. Solona winced as her tail was reabsorbed. The snow was cold against her hairless fingers and her knees burned with it. She had barely noticed the temperature before… she missed fur.

“Hero? What did you find out?”

Solona stood, jumping at the feel of snow on bare feet. She hadn’t melted anything this time. “Just that our time tables got moved up. They have prisoners and are using blood magic to weaken the Veil.”

At the words ‘blood magic’, the scout’s face changed color, allowing her to blend into the surroundings completely. Numbly she handed Solona he boots. 

“Are you sure?”

_Claws threatening to tear them all apart, unable to tell friend from foe._

“Yes. If we don’t hurry, we will be fighting more than supposed bandits.”

“Right,” the woman murmured, practically invisible at this point. “We should get moving then.”

oOo

Solona didn’t think she could ever get used to having thirty-some people move through the woods and be quiet enough to startle a doe when they were only three body lengths away. True, a majority of the large groups she had been in were composed mainly of warriors, but when a rabbit hopped away with only two lengths to spare, she was convinced magic was involved. Rogues were good but they couldn’t be that good. 

Harding nodded at her from across the group as they crept forward. The head scout was near the front, directing things with hand gestures and mouthed words. She had agreed that Solona’s report was urgent and after a brief conference with some other leaders, decided that they were going to go. There was no time to wait for the Inquisitor on this one. 

There was a plan, she knew there had to be one, but that didn’t mean she knew what it was. The best she could figure based on half-comprehending Harding’s gestures and Felicity’s significant looks was that they were dividing into groups. Primary archers and the two mages in the back and melee rogues and the handful of warrior they had managed to gather in a short amount of time ducking low in the front. But that didn’t explain who she be focusing on when the fighting started. 

As one the group slowed and Solona stopped, not liking the way her boots sank into the snow. It was cold and made her worry about what would happen if they had to move quickly. Retreat was impractical even with how swift the average rogue could run.

Harding walked to the front of their group and yelled only a bit louder than some people’s whispers, ticking the air with her rasps. “We are getting close so we are going to divide into three groups, two on the sides and one taking on the center. The center group is the bait so they will have the shield bearers and the mages. They will hit the gate fast and hard while our archers start picking the bandits from the siders. Remember, we have word that there are enemy mages so stay on your guard. Good luck.”

 _At least she knew where she was going now,_ Solona thought as somehow everyone split up without talking. Were these preexisting groups? In a matter of minutes, they were on the move again, making more noise in this smaller group than they had as the large.

Then again, maybe they were supposed to make noise. They were bait. The idea of charging against a well-fortified camp didn’t bother her as much as it should have, she was more concerned on trying to keep everyone alive when over half their people would be beyond her healing range. 

Waving at Felicity, Solona pointed at herself and one section of their small squad and then at the older mage and the remainder of their people. The hooded figure nodded and Solona tried to attune herself to the people in her care without using strong magic that could be sensed. 

Several paces away the woods broke into a small clearing and the frontline shield-bearers paused, giving the other groups precious moments to get in position. Given how the rogues had been holding back earlier, Solona figured that they were already there but it couldn’t hurt to give them an extra few moments. 

She pulled out her staff, checked her belt for her just-in-case dagger, and tried to detach herself. There was no need to worry. These were professionals, some of the best in the world. They would be fine.

Then they were running and she barely kept herself from tripping as she tried to stay far enough away yet still in casting distance. The guards she had passed her that very day shouted, one beginning to say something just before an arrow lodged itself in his throat.

 _No mages yet._ Solona cast a general energizing and rejuvenating spell over the lot and keeping an eye on Felicity’s people-she was doing well despite not being practiced in healing during a fight- shoved a guard back as the warriors and rogues reached the gate.

The sounds of people fighting for their lives was familiar as a song and Solona shot a ball of lightning over the wall, hoping stunning the enemies outside of her vision. A scream sent her magic into a healing spell as the snow turned red with a warrior reeling back.

Pressure on her back and cold in her face. Solona gasped in snow as she pushed herself off the ground. _What?_ Nearby an Inquisition bowman got to their feet, firing an arrow as soon as they regained their balance. The corner of her eye picked out an arrow stuck in a tree behind her, just about where her chest would have been if she hadn’t been on the ground. She had been noticed. 

“Thanks!” Solona shouted and barely got a nod from the rogue. On a battlefield, this was nothing. 

Then they were moving forward as their people broke through the gate, positions covered by the archers on either side. The remaining melee fighters rushed forward to join the fray, following the mages through the wooden entrance.

The interior was on fire. 

Solona’s exact memories on what the camp had looked like before were foggy from the shifting but she was sure the flames licking the sky from a rooftop hadn’t been there before. People screamed and her thoughts refocused on finding the men and women she was supposed to keep alive.

She found a rogue nearly biting their tongue off to keep from crying as blood poured from their arm, reaching for the severed hand a couple of paces away. Barely breathing, Solona grabbed the still-warm fingers and pinned the spamming limb to the ground, trying to align the hand right. She sank sparks of healing magic into the rogue to slow the bleeding but not enough to scab over the wound. 

Senses blazing, she trusted her instincts and when the hand was at a certain angle, started streaming magic into the arm. The rogue writhed under her, screams finally breaking free but Solona couldn’t listen to them, she couldn’t! If she did this wrong, they were worse than dead, their badly attached appendage would poison them from the inside out.

The ground rumbled and she nearly screamed herself. _The mages!_ A new kind of cracking joined the fire’s noise and sending a last pulse of healing magic into the rogue, Solona began to run to where the magic came down like a fresh snowfall. _Maker, please let it be enough._

Several warriors, rogues, and Felicity had found two of the mages, neither of them the woman Solona had seen before. Joining the other Inquisition spellcaster, Solona threw a barrier up as one of the elaborately dressed mages tried to make the soldiers have waking nightmares. Lightning cackling she arched the energy over her people at the mages, distracting one of them long enough for a rogue to rush forward, thrusting a blade through their gut. The other one’s head hit the ground before the rest of their body followed.

Using a small bit of her rapidly decreasing supply of mana, Solona healed a nonfatal wound on a nearby archer even as another building caught on fire. Even with her dull human nose she could smell flesh cooking and she hoped none of their people had been caught inside. How would they ever know?

Blue fire caught the corner of her eye and she changed directions with the rest of her small group, Felicity shortly coming after them, eyes wide and skin pale. The woman wasn’t used to being in the midst of violence. At any other time Solona would have pitied her for what she must have been going through but she couldn’t think of anything but the magic in the air else everyone could die.

Rounding a building, she realized they had gotten to the second level of the encampment. Then she saw the woman from before. She was at the edge of the incline, arms out and hair whipping from magic alone. Several Inquisition soldiers lay in front of her, killed by their own weapons. Solona instantly began a fortifying spell which she passed on to Felicity for strength. 

The woman’s glowing eyes passed over them till they paused on the brown-haired mage. Lips pressed together then parted, laughter that was too human coming out. 

“I thought there was something strange about that dog. It’s a neat trick to be sure, but nothing in compared to what I have. Shall I show you, Grey Warden?”

Blood stained fingers stretched to the sky, green then red energy snaking over her arm. The Veil heaved and Solona opened her mouth to warn the soldiers when the taint struck.

The physical world ceased to matter as the unsingable song filled her head. She could have been anywhere and it wouldn’t have changed a thing when immortal creatures roared and Old Gods shifted in their dreamless sleep. Someone laughed. 

Notes that should be never written down flickered past her eyelid and the taint smothered her, clogging her throat. Fingers that were probably hers scrapped against an immovable surface, trying to get away from sensation of drowning. _Was she breathing? Did she even need to?_

She opened her eyes- _or were they already open? It was hard to tell_ \- and stood. The world had become red-tinted, _or maybe the normal world was washed out._

The Inquisition soldiers fought a large figure of fire, spindly demons receiving branches in the form of arrows. Felicity yelled something in her direction, trying to keep up with the damage being inflicted. Someone burned and a demon vanished. 

Solona raised her hands, lightning blossoming. She nurtured it from a seed to a flickering bundle of power, energy pulsating. Without a thought, she spread her arms and released it.

Soldiers crumpled, white lightning rippling across their metal-covered bodies with sharp kisses. Felicity backed up, magic pulsing as she scrambled to put up a barrier. A fireball to the chest ended that attempt. _What was she doing? She was on these people’s side!_ The ground beneath a pair of nearby archers gave way and they disappeared.

_This was wrong._

The woman-Venatori- laughed as more members of the Inquisition ran towards them, Harding in the lead. Solona’s left hand reached for her dagger even as her right brought up more lightning. More noise pretending to be words screamed from Harding’s mouth as she leveled an arrow at Solona.

_She was the danger._

Her robe was no barrier at all as the blade sunk into her stomach. Solona looked down to see who had attacked her. A hand that looked very much like her own held the handle poking from her body. She couldn’t see the rest of the weapon.

The Calling flared louder, an inaudible crescendo that made her sway. Her right hand stretched out to Harding, lightning searing through her fingers.

The dagger struck, pain a distant bell she could hardly call her own. Her vision blurred and the knife once again tried to sheath itself in her flesh. The world tilted sideways, people standing on snow-lined walls and the ground rushed up.

Lightning hissed against the snow, tearing for its very life. The snow steamed until they both perished. Battle noises followed and the Veil wavered. Solona tried to raise her arm. It might as well have been someone else’s, it felt as if a dragon was sitting on it. She gave up with that effort and closed her eyes. The snow was red enough as it was.

“…olon…”

“Solo…..ake up…” 

“please….eal”

Darkness clung to her, wrapping her in tranquil warmth. _Why couldn’t they just leave her alone?_

“…no healers….please…”

A weight gripped her hand pressing it against something wet.

“Heal!”

 _I suppose I can save one last person._ Solona pushed back against the unending blankness and summoned her remaining magic, sending it to her hand.

Pain.

The darkness lurched and fled, speck of light in the distance fading. Her heels dug into something solid and her back left the ground, pressing shoulders down.

Then her magic was gone and so was she.


	30. Down the Rabbit Hole

Solona floated, drifting through space and time. Occasionally colors would flick through her eyelids, white, blue, and pink but mostly it was dark and surreal. _Was this death?_ She didn’t know if she wanted the answer. But… the floating was nice. Something nagged the back of her mind, scratching at a closed door, telling her that something bad had happened… _or was going to happen…_ She ignored that thought.

“….murder….”

“Mindcontro….”

She shifted- _was it possible to move when floating?_ \- and something jabbed into her side. _That can’t be right._ Whatever she was resting on jerked and her abyss erupted into pain and---

Cold pinpricks on her face to be covered by more darkness and heat. Voices murmured in the background. “…Hero killed…” “….sacrifice….” _So very strange…_

Time was passing, she knew that with the intuition one has when their hand is on fire. Something clogged her throat, stopping her breathe for a heart-breaking instant. _Did people have hearts when they were dead?_ Blood to her head, the substance came out and she started to spin in the darkness.

Her floating stopped and sounds rose around her, familiar but warped, twisting around her like so many vines threatening to choke her. A hand on her head, soft words. Cool air brushed her face and she struggled slightly as she came off her cloud, flying upwards. Her gut lurched and a low voice rumbled. She knew that voice… _or she should have._ Solona stopped trying to get away and relaxed into the things that could only be tree branches. That would explain what happened to her cloud.

Endless moments and the tree bent, setting her on a new cloud that crunched as her weight settled into it. Solona tried to move, to grab, but her hands were trapped beneath a soft but thick surface. A light pulse of magic and she was gone.

It was like she was floating again but the details were off. Yes she was weightless and yes there was nothing supporting her but that’s where the similarities ended. She was falling.

The sensation of rapid decline continued till she hit the ground, losing all sense of thought and direction in a bone-shattering instant. If she had to breathe, she wouldn’t have been able to, ropes tightening across her chest. She lay on her back, not moving for several seconds, waiting for comprehension then climbed to her feet.

Her shoes slid across the abyss of floor, trembling. There was nothing to distinguish where she was, up or down, where… _there!_

A prick of light in the distance, something different out of endless sameness. She moved in that direction, extending legs without effort. If the light hadn’t grown, she wouldn’t have been able to tell that she was going anywhere. The edge of the bright circle was warped, as if something was blocking it. 

A figure.

Solona stopped pretending to walk as she got closer, letting the illusion of control slide. She kept moving. The figure developed features and Solona lost whatever sense of calm she had.

“Alistair?”

The man grinned at her, eyes twinkling. Behind him, the light was blinding but she wasn’t looking at that, instead tracing her eyes over a face that, despite seeing it often in her nightmares, had faded from memory. 

“It’s good to see you again, my love. Not that I’d want to see you here of course but you know…”

This had happened before and it hadn’t ended well. “How do I know you are not a demon?”

He considered it. “Well, I could try to act scary, but I don’t know how convincing that’d be.”

She trembled, pain tracing through her gut and crossed her arms to hold herself together. “What do you want?”

His smile was disarming but she couldn’t fall for it. Not again. “I just want to talk.”

“Then let’s talk.”

oOo

Leliana clicked her teeth impatiently. This was taking too long. Skyhold had some of the best healers in southern Thedas, surely they should be done by now. She uncrossed her arms and braced them against her hips. She’d give them a few more minutes before she demanded to know what was going on.

To her comfort and irritation, Cullen wasn’t doing much better. The ex-templar paced across the room, met the wall, glared at the stone for such a long second she almost thought he was going to punch a hole in it but then he sighed and walked back across the small space.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor,” she commented, leaning against the cool wall of the antechamber.

The Commander of the Inquisition’s armies shot her a glare before he remembered himself and moving over to a nearby bench, sat down with a huff and a clatter of metal. After a second, he buried his face in his hands, breathing deeply. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him this visibly upset. Probably before they defeated Corypheus at any rate

“She will survive.” At first Leliana thought he was talking to himself, but then he glanced at her. “Those kind of people don’t die easily.”

She barely resisted telling him Dorothea had been one of those larger than life people. “You know, many would consider you one.”

Cullen grimaced, scar that she had heard conflicting reports on how he had got twisting. “That’s a scary thought.” He stared down at his hands, frowning. 

Leliana sighed.

Pushing herself off the wall, she joined him at the bench, pressing her shoulder against his in a friendly manner. “She’ll be okay. She’s a fighter. You may not realize it until the last second, but she has never ceased to surprise me. “

Small figure defiant, pleading for her to return the woman she’d been as if it was not only a possibility but the only one. Leliana smiled softly and pushed her hood back.

The door to the outside world opened and Josephine walked in. “How is she doing?”

“We don’t know,” Cullen growled, hands curling into fists. He was a man of action, not one who was content to wait for the future to knock on his door.

“That is probably for the best,” the Inquisitor added, following Josie into the waiting room. The two women glared at him and Cullen looked as if he was seriously considering using the smaller man for a practice dummy. 

“Now is not the time for that,” Josephine hissed. Her betrothed raised an eyebrow. “Then do say when we should discuss it. Is it a kindness if we let her heal only to kill her? If her judgement is to be death, better we let her go now with less suffering. She deserves that at the very least.”

Cullen shot to his feet. “You are not serious.”

Leliana waited. She didn’t know if she could be a part of killing Solona but now was not the time to protest. 

“When am I ever not?” Maxwell Treveleyan asked. Josephine grabbed the Free Marchers’ arm and forced him to look her. They communicated wordlessly for several seconds and then he sighed. “Fine. We will do it your way even if my way is more humane.”

Looking across the three of them, Maxwell ran a hand through his dark hair, expression vulnerable for a second. Leliana read the words there and tempered her magnanimous thought of ending his suffering right there.

“You all can have the night off. I will manage what needs to be done.” Then he was gone.

Cullen shifted his feet, muttered something that she didn’t catch, took a step towards the door, paused, and sat down again, hands clenched against the bench. 

“He does care about Solona, whatever it may appear. He’s just concerned about the repercussions of… what happened,” Josephine explained, watching the two people on the bench.

Leliana tugged her hood back into place, shading her eyes. She didn’t look at her friend. “We know.” 

oOo

_Grotesque figures clawed at each other, dark blood splattering the surroundings. A horned figure ran at her, roaring. She couldn’t move._

_She couldn’t breathe._

Something was sitting on her chest. She didn’t know what it was or where she was but of that she was certain. There was no other reason it would be so hard to breathe. 

Solona cracked an eye open, not quite sure what she was going to see and not sure she wanted to. 

A stone ceiling. 

She closed her eye, counted heart beats, and tried again. The same grey rock loomed over her with nothing visibly on top of her. _Strange._

Solona tried to sit up but a rush of fiery pain stopped her as soon as she flexed her abdominal muscles. _Had she tried exercising again? No…_ Memories tugged at her conscious of red snow and of twisting a dagger into her own gut. 

A second attempt at raising her viewpoint met with equal results and she slumped, dizzy from lack of air. Someone stirred just outside her view and mana slipped from her grasp like it had been soaked in butter.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Solona winced as she turned to see her companion. The sight of a broad shouldered dark haired templar greeted her. “Hello Fraiser.”

The man glared at her, face stony. Felicity burning. Solona breathed slowly as the smell of burnt flesh crept through her memories, turning her already cramp stomach. _Why did it look like she was the one who tossed the fireball? That couldn’t be right._

Knowing that since Fraiser was around, it couldn’t be too dangerous, Solona relaxed and dragging her arm up through the air, traced the recognizable lumps of bandages beneath an oversized shirt. She had been injured. That was obvious at least. More specific memories of the fight returned and she peeked at the templar.

“Did we stop the bandits and fix the Veil?” she asked softly, letting her hand fall back to a resting position. 

“Yes. Our forces are still working on cleaning up the mess.”

No more demons would be coming through. _Good._ She smiled, suddenly feeling sleepy. Her eyes shut. 

”You won’t get away with this,” Frasier said. She glanced at him, a bit surprised and more alert. He didn’t sound angry or even confident, instead simply stating a fact. _Harding screams at her, desperate._ “The templars will riot if you receive anything less than the Rite of Tranquility.”

“Will you be one of them?” Solona asked softly. She didn’t blame him for his hatred of mages, the older templars had told her that he had been fresh recruit when Kirkwall fell. If even half the things she had heard about Circles after that were true, both sides wore deep scars.

The Knight-Lieutenant sighed, taking his eyes off of her. “Maybe. I’ve heard what happened and I know it isn’t your fault but…” He met her gaze. “You are danger to everyone you’re around. As a templar, I can’t just let you roam free.” 

Well, she hadn’t expected him to change that much. Solona pulled her eyes away, staring at the ceiling. “The mages are wrong, you know,” Frasier continued. “Tranquility isn’t that bad. You are still alive and can still pursue your interests.”

A cynical voice born of pain and tiredness that went beyond skin-deep whispered in her head. _Says someone who never needs to fear the waking death._

She was barely aware of the templar walking to the door and talking to a person outside. She drifted on clouds filled with rain, heavy with feelings and dreamt of an older mage whose face kept shifting, screaming as they died. Solona’s voice soon echoed it but despite all her efforts, she couldn’t wake up.

“Solona.” Her eyelids fluttered, batting back sharp-clawed demons. They reached for her with the faces of those she cared about appeared on their heads. Alistair, Leliana, Zevran, Connor, Sigrun, Cullen. “It’s just a dream.” 

Pressure on the side of her face, _they had her!_ They stroked her hair off her forehead, laughing softy. She whimpered as a claw trailed down her chest, poised above her heart. “You won’t be needing one of these,” a demon with the face of Lorraine said and struck.

Brown eyes stared down at her and she tried to fight them off, magic still refusing to come when she called. 

”Solona, stop it. You’re alright.” The familiar voice weakened her feather-like blows to puffs of wind and she blinked rapidly.

“Cullen?” 

“I’m right here.” A large thumb hesitantly ran over her cheekbone, moving up to wipe away the beginning of a tear. “You don’t need to be frightened.”

 _Cullen._ Despite the fear pumping through her veins, Solona felt herself relax, rememorizing the Commander’s features in the process. “Thank you,” she whispered, nuzzling the hand against her face before she could stop herself.

A smile tugged on overly familiar lips. “Of course. It’s not a problem.”

oOo

_Blood and screams echoing in the black underground._

When her eyes opened again, it was Leliana who waited on the bench, hood back and eyes focused on the ground with hands clasped together against her lips. She looked like herself, which Solona took for a good sign.

“The so-called bandits were led by some of the remaining Venatori,” the spymaster said without preamble. “We thought the order dissolved after the death of their master but it appears at least one fraction was still active. Where there is one, there will be more.

“Thanks to you, we were able to stop whatever it was they were planning so close to Skyhold. Scout Harding should be back within the week to give a full report on her findings.”

Leliana paused, official manner dropping like a weight. “Solona, you almost died. I’ve seen corpuses that looked more alive. I just wanted to say… I’m glad you’re okay.”

Happiness, sadness, and a strong current of worry swept through her. “What happened? I… remember the end. I shouldn’t have survived that.”

“It was Harding,” the sister explained. “After she took care of the Venatori agent, she got you to try to heal yourself. Unfortunately,as you know, magic needs a mind to guide it for that kind of healing and it fused your insides together, slowing your death. That’s how they managed to get you back to Skyhold.”’

Solona's ear itched but she was too tired to scratch it. It hadn't been the first time she had been close to death, but it was the most dramatic. Her thoughts tugged on that notion, pulling it through the mud across her mind. She closed her eyes.

"We may have had our differences recently, but I want you to know I will stand beside you no matter what happens." A soft Orlesian voice told her. She smiled and after a long moment remembered that she should respond. "Thanks," she said in a whisper before drifting off to a place where she didn’t need to think.

oOo

Time didn't have much meaning when you were injured, Solona found. It didn't help that she spent most of her time sleeping, gaining a new respect for the patients that had complained that life was just slipping them by. The people with her rotated, Leliana reassuring her that Nathaniel had been warned, Cullen with a mixture of kind emotion and worry written like text across his features, and then some templars and healers she didn’t know very well. Once Josephine sat with her for a little while, working on paperwork and another time when the healer had announced she was well enough for visitors, a small stream of Inquisition people came by to make sure she was indeed alive and on the mend. Solona smiled and thanked them, ignoring the wariness that appeared in the corners of their eyes when they thought she wasn’t looking. 

They were worried, uneasy about what had happened slowing their smiles. But after what happened, she didn’t blame them, she couldn’t. How could you trust someone who had killed their friends? It hadn’t been her choice, anymore than it was a thrall’s fault, but demons still walked towards her in her dreams with the faces of those she had killed, asking her why. And when it wasn’t demons it was darkspawn. 

She wasn’t sleeping well.

Two weeks after regaining consciousness, the main healer said that Solona could leave her bed, “But just for a little while,” she reprimanded the mage as she struggled to slide a robe over stiff limbs, abdominal muscles already aching faintly from the exertion of standing on her own legs.

“I’ll be careful,” Solona promised, eyes pinned to the wooden door which had barred her from the rest of the world. It was a simple thing, flat and brown. Not nearly interesting enough to be stared at for hours on end. The healer, an older woman who reminded Solona a bit of Wynne, laughed. 

“Alright. Just take it easy. No saving the world today.” Ignoring the heat that ran its usual course across her cheekbones and nose, Solona smiled and leaning too much on her cane, hobbled over to the gateway to the outside. 

It wasn’t blinding or even interesting outside the space where she had been healing. Just another stone room without windows, benches pressed against the walls for those who waited. Several other doors like her own surrounded the room, smelling of alcohol and death. Skin prickling at the place where people came who couldn’t be healed by magic alone, Solona took several steps before one of the doors swung open.

Blond hair and silver armor gleamed in the torchlight, momentarily distracting her from the face above it. Cullen’s crooked half-smile greeted her and for a long moment, she forgot what she was supposed to be doing. _Was she going somewhere?_

“Hello. I… heard you were being let out today and wanted to know if you would… allow me to accompany you.” 

If she had been moving she might have fallen but as it was, she just gripped her cane harder. Neither of them had said anything yet, but it was like a dragon lurked in the room with them, making the room hotter with its presence.

“Of course. I… would like that.” He shared her hesitant smile and coming closer, offered her his arm. After a second, she took it. Surely Cullen has a better chance at keeping me upright than a stick of wood. 

To her unending disappointment, the hallways didn’t get lighter the farther away from the healing space they went. Just more of the same dancing torchlight, mixed with unblinking magelights. Cullen didn’t say anything as they walked, remaining steady as she began to put more and more of her weight on to his arm. A short flight of stairs had her panting by the top and he patiently waited as she caught her breath, free arm against the wall. His eyes were worried but he knew better than to stop her from getting outside. After watching her trip over her cane for the third time, he grab it from her, tucking it under his arm. 

Finally, feeling like she had emerged an old woman rather than someone barely in her thirties, Solona stepped out a door and felt a wisp of fresh wind brush her face. The templar was barely able to keep up with her as she almost pulled him through the Great Hall and out onto the landing. People continued their lives all around her but the world froze in that single instant of clear air going into her lungs and the crisp smell of cold teasing her nose.

“They should really have the critical care somewhere else,” she mused, closing her eyes to the invasion of light. “I can’t see how being down in those cramped rooms are supposed to help patients. People are not so different from plants. We need fresh air and sunlight in order to heal.” 

Cullen looked out over the courtyards, face calm but his shoulders rose and fell just as deeply as hers did. “I know little about healing, but that seems right. Feeling like you are being trapped is no good for someone’s health.” Solona put her free hand on arm she was holding as Cullen’s eyes glazed, looking off at things only he could see. 

Her touch seemed to draw him back and he smiled down at her. Solona’s breath caught at the softening lines of his face, the smoothing of a furrowed brow. _It had to be all the walking_ , she lied to herself. That’s why she was having trouble breathing and all her blood seemed to be lingering in her face. 

A pulse through her veins tore her gaze away, watching a gaggle of children chase a hoop. It was useless to try to lie, even to herself. Even a near-death experience hadn’t been enough to shake her feelings for the templar. She was just a glut for punishment it seemed.

After waiting for her breathing to calm down, Cullen led them through the rotunda so they could start to walk the battlements, wind playing with Solona’s hair. She focused on the landscape, marveling once again at how little changed about Skyhold. The mountains loomed around them, protecting them from the dangers of the world even as they isolated them.

Solona sighed as Cullen stopped to talk to the guardsman making his rounds. Feeling the sudden warmth radiate from the man next to her, she bent her head to look at her feet, embarassed at the half-thoughts floating through her head. She had too much to worry about to think about her misguiding affections for the templar. _But... if he was interested in her_ and after thinking about it too much over the last weeks she was sure he was, _would she be able to resist?_


	31. Solidifying Limbs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Think of this chapter as a recuperating stop before the angst train rumbles off for its final stretch.

She barely made it half way around the edge of Skyhold before they had to stop. Cullen helped her to the inside of a tower so she wouldn’t accidentally fall off the battlements and settled her on top of some boards, raising a puff of sawdust. One of the walls was missing a chuck of stone, wood frames inside it surrounding what would be a large window for noble guests to admire the view without getting cold.

Solona leaned back against the cool stone gratefully. Her limbs were shaking and she thought her wounds were beginning to bleed again, not that she’d ever tell Cullen that. No matter what else he had been doing on their walk, it seemed at least part of his attention had always been on her, making sure she didn’t trip or become too tired.

That might have been a templar thing.

“Do you ever miss the Order?” she asked in between breaths.

Cullen glanced down at her from where he was standing several paces away. He seemed about to question about why she would ask but instead he answered, “No. Some days when I spend hours buried beneath reports I miss the simplicity of it, knowing exactly what I needed to do without any doubt, but that’s it. I am happy with my life now and what I am doing. I don’t think I could honestly go back to that even if the Order and Circles were fully restored and refocused like the Divine Victoria is trying to do.”

She doubted the College of Enchanters would like the Circles returned anyways.

Avoiding the feeling that she would be involved in the impeding conflict one way or another, Solona stood and nearly whimpered at the sharp fire that started burning at her side. Cullen had his hand under her arm in an instant, keeping her from wavering.

“Do you think Cassandra will make a good Divine?” Solona asked, needing to distract them both. The Commander evened her out and gently led her towards the quickest way back to the main building. “Yes, I do. She is a brilliant leader and a courageous woman. There is no one better suited to bringing back the Chantry.”

 _Was he…?_ “Do you believe in the Maker, Cullen?”

She was going to start a ranking on how awkward her questions made the templar. 1 being the weather and 10 being that one time she asked if there were going to be any little Rutherfords in the near future. This one was probably a 5.

The Commander kept his attention on the walkway in front of them, watching the guards patrol. “I do. He may not play an active role in our lives but…” He waited as Solona paused to compose herself, side now a faint burn. “People need to believe in something; I can’t say I am any different. The Maker watches over us, he only needs faith. That’s the least we can do.”

Whatever she had been intending to say dissipated with the ernest expression on the man’s face. He was a believer. Perhaps his faith had been shaken over everything that had happened, but he still had it. That was something.

Stepping carefully down the series of steps, Solona couldn't help but compared the two of them. She believed in the Maker like she believed snow was cold, completely and without any rational thought behind it. But she couldn’t say she regularly listened to the Chant, visited the Chantry, or did anything else a good Andrastian should. She had once envied Leliana’s deep faith but watching the repercussions of that faith cracking had changed her mind on that point.

“I’m glad,” she said finally, deciding on the least aggravating option and possibly the most honest. Cullen’s eyes crinkled and he led her back down to her cave.

oOo

Leliana's lips twitched when she entered Solona’s room a few days later, and then twitched again. "What do you think you're doing?"

The mage pulled her foot up on to her bed and began to tie the laces of her boot. “I’m done being trapped down here. It’s fine for me to be up and moving. I promise I will not ‘keel over like a two-legged cat’.”

“A two-legged cat?” The rogue's twitches had grown into a full-force smile.

Solona blushed but her irritation kept her fumbling with the knots. She shouldn't really be mad at anyone. The head healer wasn't a mage so she didn’t factor in daily rejuvenating healing spells when they said she would be back to full strength in seven weeks. Of course, the professional did say that it was healthier to recover by natural means. Solona grimaced. _What would give her that impression?_

“She may have been annoyed at me for going on too long of a walk the other day and reopening my wounds.” _The woman did want the best for her patient_ , Solona allowed, her fingers brushing the smooth wood of her cane as she stood. Just because they disagreed on what exactly that entailed didn’t change the sentiment behind it.

“You do have a terrible time remaining sick,” Leliana agreed too easily, blue eyes twinkling beneath her hood. She held the door for Solona as they left the room and entered the antechamber.

Ignoring the head-healer’s frustrated look as she walked by with her cane, Solona didn’t disagree with her friend’s assessment.There was nothing worse than sitting around and having other people take care of you. She didn’t mind doing it for others but to be a burden for someone, that was something that she had trouble accepted.

She once again started composing a letter to the Inquisitor when a breeze kissed her face; she didn’t know if she could go back to the dark, quiet room that had held her this last week. Maybe she’d just pitch a tent on the battlements and live out in the elements while still getting the convenience of having someone else making food that wasn’t thrown together in a pot with prayers of survival said over them.

It was quiet in the courtyard, or at least as quiet as a complex with hundreds of people could be. Solona glanced around, making sure there were indeed living creatures around. Some guards walked the perimeter and several people went about their business but the usual ruckus of activity was diminished. The muted noises prickled her skin.

_Skyhold shouldn’t be like this. It’s just wrong._

Leliana smirked at her and they left the top steps, instead going to roam the garden. A statue of Andraste stared down imperiously at them. _Do you think Andraste was such a looker?_ Solona hide her smile as Skyhold’s resident mother passed them, trying to appear contemplative. She wasn’t sure how well she did because the sister’s arm tightened around her, almost making her fall as her balance was pulled off.

She had barely straighted before she triped, stumbling into one of the more dignified statues. Of course the rogue just laughed, but Solona's attention had already been diverted.

Cullen was waiting for them, arranging a chess board underneath the gazebo. Luckily his brown eyes were not on her else she didn’t know how she was going to react. Pain no longer distracted her from what happened before she left. _She had... and he had..._ As it was her heart ran away without her, leaving her knees weak and head dizzy. _Yes he knew, but that didn’t change anything. Nothing important at any rate._

Blue eyes glittered and Solona had the feeling she had been set up.

“What are you doing?” she asked in a whisper. Leliana simply smiled and pushed her toward the small table. Solona found her heart a second later as her feet hit the steps, it had fallen to her stomach and was currently doing its best to tell her that this was a bad idea. Cullen finally got the pieces in order and glanced up.

“Do you have time to play a game?”

“Probably,” Solona managed, barely aware of her friend walking away. She should be annoyed at them but perhaps that would come when she could think straight.

She sat down in the chair opposite the Commander, seat hard and her wound aching slightly. “I should probably warn you that I am not very good at this.”

Cullen treated her with a full smile. “I have heard that. Dorian was so pleased that he beat someone that he demanded a rematch. I should thank you for that. He needed his arrogance taken down a notch, particularly with such egregious cheating.”

She really wasn’t good at this game. She shrugged, face hot.

Rough fingers rubbed the edge of the board and for a moment, the man almost seemed shy. “You can go first.”

She could do that. _Probably._ At least she knew the rules, but that was about all she had in the way of skills. Better than nothing, however against a man whose job was to be at least two steps ahead of his opponents at all times, she didn’t stand a chance.

But she could still try.

They didn’t talk as they engaged in the battle of wits. Solona aired out the rules as she played, noting how Cullen moved his pieces. In less than ten moves, the Commander of the Inquisition had decimated her troops and trapped her across the board. She had felt him closing in but whatever move she made he had countered.

It was like trying to beat Oghren at a drinking contest. Impossible and unwise even to try.

The concentration melted off Cullen’s face as he set his piece down. Her gaze lingered on the lines of his hand as they moved up to push his stiff hair back. He smiled at her and she dropped her eyes down to the board, memorizing their locations for no other reason than because it distracted her. He had won.

“How are you feeling?” Cullen asked quietly.

“Getting better,” Solona replied as diplomatically as she could. “I should be fully recovered within the month.”

Honesty pouring out of him like a beacon, the templar said, “I’m glad to hear that.”

A wind brushed past them and the gentle murmur of voices rippled in the background. The image of the board burned in the back of Solona’s mind and she switched to looking at her hands, too pale and thin.

“Solona, I… There...” Cullen laughed to himself, watching what could only be an Antivan couple walk by. “At this point, I doubt there will ever be a good time to talk to you.”

_What was he doing?_

Someone yelled in the distance, distracting them both for a moment as they looked to see what was the matter. “About three weeks ago you said something and I… well… I just wanted to say… that I...”

A red blush unfolded across the templar’s face, spreading like petals. “I have…thought about what it would be like… with you.” _He what?_ In a gesture she had long since come to recognize, Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, eyes focused somewhere above her head.

 _There was no way this was happening. It was a dream brought on by the pain in her side._ “What are you saying?” Solona whispered, almost unable to hear herself.

Cullen tried again. “I don’t expect anything from you. I know… you are not ready, but I just thought that I should make it clear where I stood if you ever… wanted to know.”

_Clear? It was anything but clear. Was he saying…. but that couldn’t be right._

Words blurred in her ears and hesitant fingers grasped her shoulder as he stood, brown eyes melting into her own. “… go back to your room.”

Solona raised her hand to push off Cullen’s grip but when her skin touched his, she couldn’t seem to convince her limb to move. The Commander’s hand was warm and large yet still personal. Between the swirl of emotions his eye created and the feeling of his skin, it was a miracle she could think at all.

“I..” Her voice seemed rusty somehow, underused. She tried again. “I don’t want to go back there. It’s too dark and too indoors.” Late summer in Skyhold could never be considered hot but it was significantly better than a near-cave. “What are the chances there is still a bunk open in the mage quarters?”

Cullen helped her to stand and she ignored the faint ache in her abdomen. The head-healer did know what she was talking about. Even though she wasn’t moving that much.

“Even with the Enchanters College and the Circles, mages are still coming to us for shelter,” the Commander informed her. Solona bit her lip. Her living situation had been scattered ever since Amaranthine though perhaps Leliana would be willing to share for a while. And after… everything, she didn’t know if she had the influence to take a bed away from someone even if she wanted to.

_You’re ignoring the main issue._

Cullen scratched at his chin, blush already faded. She could almost see the thoughts churning behind a calm exterior. Every second he didn’t speak increased her concern.

“If you want,” he began. “The couch in my office is av… available. It’s not very p…private but it…” He took a breath, looking away. “It is there if you need it.”

Sparks still buzzing beneath her skin, she didn’t know what would happen if she spent a night. “Thank you,” she said simply. Cullen’s slow smile stole her heartbeats and she forced herself to look away. The feeling in his eyes had been burned into her mind already.

This was not going to end well.

The thought was as clear as glass through her mind, stark against the murky indecision. Now would be a good time to get out of here. “I should go make sure it is alright with Leliana to share her room for a while,” she said, grasping for space. Cullen nodded, making some comment on something he had to do as well.

Peace for the moment.

Of course, dissuading Cullen not to walk her to the rookery took work. Only after convincing him that she would take breaks if she felt any strain did she get to leave on her own.

The fur on his coat made him look like a bear as he walked away, the messengers who had been under orders not to disturb him while he was playing chess now swarming him. His job never ended and she wasn’t sure what he would do if it did. She knew Cullen, she knew him well, but some things still evaded her. Did he have any hobbies? What did he like to read if he had free time? How did he feel about Free Marches music?

One thing she did know was his feelings for her.

She didn’t need to use her cane very much as she left the garden, tapping into the Great Hall. The nobles had thinned with the bandit attack and the nearing winter so she didn’t even have to push past anyone to get to the rotunda. Once there she turned to go up the stairs, stepping carefully since she was by herself.

There had been a joke between the Amaranthine Wardens. Who was more oblivious? Solona or Alistair? It began when Zevran stopped by to check in on them and told the story of their bumbling romance. Solona smiled at the memory of their mismatched group laughing at Alistair’s blush as the Antivan described one of Alistair’s attempt at wooing.

Then she frowned, memories wandering back to her original train of thought by going deeper into the past. _A desperate man in a hall filled with the corpses of his friends, begging for more death. Agony bringing forth words that would never have been spoken otherwise._

She had lied to herself earlier when she left for the bandit hunt and then repeatedly since. Or perhaps not 'lie'. 'Hopefully mislead' might be the better term. She knew Cullen had feelings for her at one point but the passage of time could have changed that.

And yet the possibility that her foolish feelings were reciprocated was now more like the reality.

Her breathing was more ragged than she would like to admit as she finally reached the top floor, the smell of feathers tickling her nose.

It took a sneeze and some blinking before she spotted Leliana standing in front of an Andraste statue, thumb on her chin thoughtfully. She seemed peaceful and normal enough. Solona’s thoughts of the Commander shifted as the rogue smiled at her, from troubled to soft.

“What can I do for you?” Leliana asked, hands dropping down to her sides, open and welcoming. She seemed like her old self at least.

“I just wanted to see if it was alright if I slept in your rooms for a while. The mage quarters are overflowing and I don’t know how much longer I can sleep in the critical care caves.”

“That’s not what they are called,” Leliana said with a smile, laughter dancing in her blue eyes. “And my quarters are always available for you.”

Solona hadn’t thought her friend would respond in any other way but it was still nice to hear. “I appreciate it.” She was going to leave so Leliana could get some work done but the rogue stopped her with a hand on her shoulder before she could even take a step.

“How did your match with Cullen go?”

She just couldn’t resist. Solona didn’t turn around right away, giving herself time to try and turn her face back to its normal coloring.

“It went alright,” she said carefully. _Please don’t ask anything more._

“Just alright? That’s disappointing.” She didn’t need to see the rogue to know she was making a face. Her friend meant well but the last thing she wanted was someone else involved the the shambles of her affairs. She could barely stand herself involved.

Some of her uncomfortableness must have been visible because Leliana laughed. “Alright, I’ll leave you to your awkward fumbling. But you deserve some happiness. You both do. Please consider that before you make any decisions.”

Solona turned to smile at the spymaster, some of the anxiety fading. “That I can do.”

Mission accomplished, she turned to begin the process of moving her scant belongings to their new place. Once again, Leliana’s voice stopped her.

“And Solona,” the rogue said, voice halting and soft. “Please be careful. Despite my efforts, lines are being drawn.” The mage sighed.

“I know.”


	32. Defying Gravity

Solona finished her walk around the perimeter with Garret, noting her heart rate and breathing. Both seemed normal, barely noticeable amidst the sweeping wonders that was the Skyhold landscape. She sent a light wave of healing down there just in case, soothing the would-be ache.

“And then Henry said, ‘What are you talking about? I don’t know any barkeep!’” Garret laughed at his own joke and waved at a guard as they passed. Solona smiled even though she had missed the middle of it. 

Her companion shook his head. “Orlesians really are a funny group. But I suppose a majority of them are like the rest of us, it’s just the nobles that are truly strange.”

She had to agree with him to an extent. Though she didn’t know if she would limit that assessment to the Orlesians; nobles in general behaved just a bit odder than the rest of Thedas. Having power and privilege from birth tended to bring out the eccentrics in a person.

A fully armored soldier bumped into Solona’s shoulder as they passed, jostling her. She stumbled into Garret, but her mouth stayed shut. It was an ex-templar. 

Garret didn’t say anything but his lips drew into a tight line, words barely being kept inside. Solona shook her head at his inaudible question, not wanting to escalate it further. It wasn’t the first time since the Venatori attack that she had been on the receiving end of the unresolved anger. If she was honest, she didn’t fight against it because she knew she deserved it. She had killed her friends and comrades. A little bullying was the least that should be done. 

Her mood didn’t help Garret any and he was quiet as they slowly walked down the steps to the courtyard. She ignored him warily eying anyone who approached them and he didn’t say anything about her not sticking up for herself. It was a compromise of sorts.

“I’m being sent to the Storm Coast,” the soldier announced. 

“When?”

“Day after tomorrow. We are going to see about getting the Blades of Hessarian to help us build a better campsite in the region. It shouldn’t be dangerous but I will be gone for several weeks.”

Solona smiled at him. “And you will be out of Skyhold for a while, enjoying the remnants of summer. That should be nice.”

Garret grinned back. “That’s an understatement if I have ever heard it. Even if it is raining all the time, it has to be better than here when winter hits.”

The soldier parted with a goodbye and jogged off to whatever task he had been avoiding, leaving Solona in the courtyard with nothing to occupy her but her own thoughts. Dangerous activity if there ever was one. 

She set off towards the merchant stalls at the other end of Skyhold, wondering if there was anything that Leliana might like amongst the wares. Maxwell was still paying her despite everything and since she didn’t really buy anything, she had quite a bit saved up. More than she felt comfortable having at any rate. That much gold would lure more trouble than it was worth if she ever took it on the road.

Her foot had barely touched the first step when she heard the disturbance. With more legerity than she knew she had, Solona ran down the flight of worn stone steps, only slightly stumbling as she reached the bottom. 

“Demon-lover!” A female voice accused. 

“Tell me, is it hard to get children’s blood out of your clothes?” A lightly accented feminine voiced retorted. 

“And you would have let the abominations kill us all?” 

“I would have checked if they were actually abominations first. Not just kill them all to make sure.”

Solona’s running slowed at the small crowd that had gathered. The Dalish scout who had been her dance partner several weeks earlier grinned ferociously at the other person who had been talking, a female warrior with a jagged scar across her eyebrow. The workers and soldiers who surrounded the two women whispered amongst themselves, emotions ranging from mild curiosity to something harsher that Solona didn’t want to think about. 

“And how would you have checked? There is no way to be sure someone isn’t possessed. I’d rather know that the mages won’t kill us when our backs are turned.”

The scout laughed. “You live with what-if’s. Does that uncertainty stem from your god abandoning you?”

The warrior’s face constricted, anger turning into a snarl but before she could act on it her gaze landed on Solona, eyes like lead weights to the mage’s chest. 

“This is the one you defend, Dalish. She killed your friends and comrades and yet you would see her walk free.” 

Giving Solona a wink, the elf retorted, “I would see everyone walk free. You humans have such a notion of borders and lines. What would happen if you lost them I wonder?”

“We would stop freeloaders like you from tramping through our land and reaping the fruits of our labors!” the female warrior yelled, brown eyes flashing. She lunged forward, metal hands closed into fists. The scout ducked to the side, but she wasn’t quite fast enough, one of the fists nicked her side and sent the small female spinning. 

She recovered quickly, several small throwing daggers appearing in her hands. 

_This is getting bad fast._

Hoping her presence wouldn't escalate the situation further, Solona tugged on a stream of mana, preparing a Mind Blast and took a step forward. The warrior had a longer blade but if she had to guess, the rogue would strike first so that was the one she needed to concentrate on. 

“What’s going on here?” A familiar marital voice demanded. Solona felt herself relax at the sound of it, spell fading. 

Both women jolted to a salute, the elf just a second slower than the warrior, fists over their hearts. “Nothing ser.”

“Just having a slight disagreement,” the Dalish rogue added. The other woman shot her a glare.

Cullen crossed his arms over his chest, eyes dark and lips pressed into a scowl. 

“And what exactly were you disagreeing about that came to blows?”

Neither spoke for a long moment and Solona finally found the words to chip in. “They couldn’t decide what color the new uniforms should be. Nevrah wanted someone that blended in with the surroundings while Karen thought it would be better to stand out for intimidation purposes.” _Those are their names… hopefully._

“Uniform colors,” Cullen repeated carefully, now watching her. Solona felt her cheeks turning colors but she managed to keep her face serious.

“Yes. Both uniforms have different purposes behind them but are equally valuable. The representation of the Inquisition is not something to be taken lightly.” What she was saying? Did that even make sense?

No one disputed her explanation but they didn’t help it either, Nevrah’s lips twitching until she covered her mouth with her hand. The Commander took in it all then shook his head slowly. “Alright. I’ll take it. But don’t let me catch you fighting again or there will be consequences.”

“Yes ser!” The two said, saluting once more before, with a half-hearted glare in each other’s direction, they set off in opposite paths. 

Cullen waited until the crowd had dispersed before he spoke, face still a petrous mask. “You sticking up for them will only encourage the fighting to continue.”

She hadn’t considered that. Any words she might have offered as an excuse ran away with the two women, skipping over the stones. They were never around when she needed them. Or when she didn’t, now that she thought about it. 

The Commander’s rough edges softened, turning into an almost smile. “Are you doing alright?” he asked quietly, hands dropping to his sides. 

Solona’s fingers automatically moved to her abdomen; they had taken off the last bandages several days ago and it still felt a bit strange to have only her skin underneath her robe. 

“I’m fine,” she said honestly. His smirk made her answer with her own small smile. “I think I’m almost recovered.”

“What did the head-healer say?” Cullen asked, eyes burning with warmth and silent laughter. Solona’s face heated. He had heard her disagreements with the older woman, directly and indirectly. 

“She said it was okay to take slow walks as long as I didn’t strain myself.” She would have a heart attack if she knew her patient had almost involved themselves in a fight. 

Cullen raised his arm up slightly and she took it even though she no longer needed the support. It was a concession she gave herself, small enough that it only barely pricked her conscience.

“I am glad you are doing better,” Cullen said softly. “For a while there you were… I, no, we…. Many of us were worried.” He finished finally, eyes on the stalls ahead as they walked towards the stable. Solona bit her lip as a stablehand led a familiar mare past them towards the gate. The world kept moving, maybe she should too. 

“Has this been happening often?” Solona asked the question that had been tapping at the corner of her mind. The templar raised a thick eyebrow and she elaborated. “The fights.”

“More often than I would like.” Cullen sighed, watching the soldiers and workers. He seemed like he could track everyone’s movements at once. “There have been several near-conflicts but they only resulted in violence once. We haven’t found the perpetrators yet and Theodor doesn’t remember who attacked him.”

 _Theodor?_ The name sounded familiar but she couldn’t put a face to the syllables. Either way, that didn’t explain why someone named Theodor would be attacked. 

“Where is he now?” Maybe she could help. 

As if he could tell what she was thinking, the Commander shook his head slightly. “He is still in the healing building while we investigate the perpetuators.” Solona considered it for a second. She could still see him. 

But she was with Cullen… and it wasn’t even awkward. Just like it used to be. 

Her cheeks twitched as a warm emotion slipped through the anguish of the last few weeks. She peeked to the side, watching the templar. It was childish, but she wished that they could return to when it was just a guilty crush that she barely acknowledged. At least she knew where she stood and didn’t need to worry about the future because she knew there wasn’t one. 

_Now…._

Her thoughts just kept circling over the same tracks. Cullen’s feelings had not abated over the years and although he was too kind to push her, it would reach a conclusion and someone would get hurt. And since she knew she would at any rate, it was just a matter of who she was going to take with her. 

Her maudlin thoughts didn’t stop her heart from fluttering, pressing against her chest. Cullen was only a few breadth’s away; his arm still tucked in hers. She could reach out and brush his face if she wanted. Or if she dared. She settled for only partially tripping to bump in to him. The feeling of the skin of his hand as he steadied her sent chills that had nothing to do with temperature beneath her robe.

Now she was just being silly.

“Cullen, have I ever thanked you for being my friend?” This was probably ridiculous but she was feeling optimistic. “It may be a silly sentiment but you were always a source of hope that everything would turn out right. Even back in the Circle, which I know was tame by most standards, mages and templars didn’t get along. I tried to avoid most of it but it was still…” The right word avoided her for a long moment but she kept going, determined to do something right by him.

“…nice to know that not all templars hated us.” She smiled, not quite meeting his gaze and not quite avoiding it either. “Even when the Libertarians rallied against you guys, I would see you smile or help carry my books and know that compromise was possible.” She shrugged. “I was thinking about being an Aequitarian before Duncan arrived actually.”

Cullen laughed softly. “An Aequitarian?”

She flushed. “What’s wrong with them? I always thought they seemed wonderfully moderate.”

“It’s nothing,” the templar said, corner of his lips curled in a half smile. Was her heart exploding? It certainly felt like it. She really needed to get better at controlling herself, there were some emotions she got but others… she had better luck with ice spells. 

They reached the emptying stables, open stall doors waving slightly. It was depressing in a way, the inevitable march of winter taking its toll on the surroundings. What was she doing here anyways?

“Cullen, I…” He raised an eyebrow. “I should go check on Theodor. Maybe he will accept some healing.”

“Of course.” The Commander considered something then sighed. “I’ll send out a request for them to let you in without trouble although it is not really under my control. The head-healer keeps her people under tight watch.”

Solona didn’t disagree but with words and impulses surging right beneath the surface, she needed to move on and soon.

“Thanks Cullen.” Before she could think about it, Solona reached up to brush the prickly skin of his cheek with her finger tips. It was rough, like the man it belonged to. The templar froze, mouth opening slightly yet he didn’t move or even pull away. That was a good sign. _Maybe._

Hand nearly burning from the heat of his flesh, Solona broke away, shifting directions to go to the above ground healing facility. She needed to find out who this Theodor was and why he was getting into fights.

oOo

Several hours later Solona crossed her arms over her chest and then uncrossed them. She needed to move, hands needing to do… something. 

This was ridiculous. Why were they being so stubborn?

“Hero Amell… please. You are being unreasonable,” the healing assistant said, waving his hands in the air in front of her. He wanted to stop her but he wasn’t willing to actually touch her to keep her from doing what she wanted.

“Just let me see him!”

“The head-healer says that you’re not allowed in.”

“Why not?”

The healer rubbed at his forehead with the back of his hand, the frustrated air of a person with limited time trying to communicate with an idiot. “I told you this already, Hero. After everything that has happened, the head-healer doesn’t want to risk any sort of contamination.”

An invisible dagger shoved itself through her ribs for a second time in so many minutes. Strangely it didn’t make her depressed. Instead the pain shifted into something harder. She didn’t want to hear this anymore.

“That is crazy. The taint isn't transmittable, at least not that way.”

“Still,” the healer looked only minorly apologetic. “I have my instructions.”

Solona stared at him for several long seconds, trying to force him to let her by with just her mind. He wasn’t moving so she guessed that it didn’t work, which was unfortunate in the long run.

“Fine,” she bit out a bit harsher than she meant to. Turning sharply, Solona strode out of the upper level and trailed down the stairs. Temper in a short fuse, she snatched a group of papers off a table, flipping through the organized notes. It took less than three minutes for her to find the brief description of Theodor’s injuries.

Two cracked ribs, numerous cuts and bruises, and a twisted wrist. 

Solona stopped reading, dropping the papers back on the desk without bothering to even try to put them back as she found them. She still didn’t remember this man but he was taking the blows that were meant for her. All the people that hated her… why did they attack others? It was completely unfair. 

The anger that rolled itself tight in her gut was familiar, but the target was strange. Usually she was mad at herself or even the Inquisitor. To want to yell at people she didn’t even know felt odd. She didn’t like it.

No one bothered her as she left the compound, strode through the courtyard, and up the flight of stairs to a tower near the gate.

The blond templar didn’t bother to hide at his surprise at her appearance or expression. “Solona?”

“Some time ago you said if I ever needed to fight I should come to you first so here I am.” The words came out crisp and soft but she was pretty sure he heard her, brown eyes widening slightly. Then they narrowed.

“That I did. What happened to Theodor?”

Solona flexed her fingers, allowing white sparks to jolt in-between them. That didn’t lessen the tension however, if anything allowing herself to react to her emotions only made the feelings worse. “He’s healed so there won't be a trace of the damage done. But that doesn’t change the fact that someone was hurt because of me and there is nothing I can do to keep it from happening again.” 

Her bitterness was out in full force and she glared at the stack of documents that Cullen was holding. “Now, do you know if anyone would be willing to fight an ex-Hero?”

The Commander stood, papers fluttering back down to the desk. He walked around the furniture and opened up the door. “Yes, I do.”

Some of the anger dissipated as she stared. _He couldn’t mean…_ “What? Cullen, no. You don’t have to do that.”

“Do you know of any other templar who won’t take advantage of this fight to actually harm you?” Cullen pointed out, unmoved from his new occupation of a doorman. 

“Fraiser might…” Solona said then gave up. _Probably not._ The templars were unhappy with her at the moment, even if none of the their number had been killed when she had been taken over. Maybe it was the idea of a mage who couldn’t control their magic. They were rather stingy about those kind of things.

Thinking about the templars inevitably brought her mind back to what had happened to Theodor and what had almost begun with Nevrah and her temper, which she really didn’t remember having before losing Alistair. 

These were thoughts for another time when her skin didn’t itch with the need to move. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Of course.”

“Very well then,” Solona said, forcing herself to smile and walked past the man who had held a sword to her throat at her Harrowing. For better or worse, this would probably give her something to think about. 

The presence of the Commander ensured that they didn’t have to wait for a practice ring and that they had an audience. One of the soldiers who had recently returned from the Basin handed her a staff and Cullen a wooden sword and shield. Solona tested the instrument, streaming mana through the frame. It felt odd to hold one again. The last time had been with the bandits. 

A pang of loss accompanied by the comforting rage engulfed her. She hadn’t wanted to kill those people. Images passed behind her eyes. Felicity burning and the smell of electrocuted flesh. Harding screaming. There were just too many things that she couldn’t do anything about!

She couldn’t stop people who stood up for her from getting attacked. 

She couldn’t keep Wardens from walking into the Deep Roads when the Calling became too much to bear.

She couldn’t protect the ones she cared about. 

She couldn’t even control herself. 

Solona’s breathing was steady but it seemed loud in her ears, a rasping that didn’t stop.

“Don’t hold back.” Cullen was speaking even as he put on a leather cap and got the sword and shield into their proper places. “I’ll be fine.”

She didn’t think she completely believed him but with lightning flickering across her skin, she didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Hopefully Cullen wasn’t too rusty at fighting mages. Solona slammed the base of her staff into the soft dirt. “Alright.” 

Then she attacked.


	33. Impact

Attacking a templar was not the smartest thing Solona had ever done, but she did it anyway, sending a burst of raw magic straight at Cullen. As she had suspected, he easily blocked it, raising his shield to deflect the magic in an array of colorful sparks. Before he could take a step in her direction, she threw two more Arcane Bolts at him. 

The Commander twisted, avoiding her attacks and the corner of his lips twitched. Solona smiled, unable to help herself.

This wasn’t a real fight in any sense. If it was, she would have hit him with lightning first and he would have smited her. But that wasn’t the point of the exercise.

Cullen started forward at a run, shield covering his body protectively. Solona sent some magic into the ground and spun away, needing to get more space between them. The practice arena was so small, even if they were at opposite sides of the circle, it took seconds to reach each other. She had the advantage at a distance and he was vastly superior close up, especially since she didn’t want to actually harm him. 

A blast of ice magic barely slowed his approach and Solona quickly cast another spell, throwing up a strong barrier as his sword came down. 

The wood smashed against the transparent layer and splinters flew to the sides. Cullen hadn’t been aiming directly for her but having a weapon aimed at her was still intimidating. Using the staff to channel her mana, she sent a pulse of healing magic towards the templar’s hands, making sure they hadn’t been hurt.

Cullen's lips twisted again and he swung his makeshift-weapon. Solona threw herself to the side as the sword broke through the fragments of her barrier. She rolled across the dirt ground that wasn’t as soft as it looked, hands burning from the friction. 

He had added some anti-magic to that blow. 

No time to think, Solona jumped to her feet, throwing a thin patch of ice between her and her opponent. Cullen barely slowed, moving way too fast for the amount of armor he had on. _Wasn’t he roasting in there?_

She really needed to stop picking fights with melee combatants that she didn’t really want to hurt, Solona reminded herself as she narrowly avoided getting hit by Cullen's shield. Some fire balls- toned down so they wouldn't actually catch anything on fire- made the templar step back a couple paces. She didn’t do well if she wasn’t going all out. 

Basically, unless she finished this fight, she was going to lose. There was no way she could continue to block the Commander's assaults, especially in such tight quarters. 

Solona pulled on her mana so that it felt as if she had magic instead of blood running through her veins, filling her to the brim. Her skin shined with power and her breathe came out in glowing puffs. Cullen paused and a dark hole tugged on her mana, threatening to pull it away. He knew she had something planned. A Fade Step gave her space as she quickly began to weave her spells.

The Commander charged, trying to stop her from finishing but it was already too late.

The mana she had sent into the earth earlier reacted to the spell she had built and it crumpled beneath Cullen's feet. A Gravitation spell yanked on his weapons, pulling the templar along with it even as she froze the joints in his armor. 

The weight of a metal-covered human hit her with all the subtly of a charging druffalo. Solona yelped as she went down, hitting the ground hard. Her head cracked against the dirt and black stars lit up over her vision. 

She had miscalculated his speed.

As her ears rang, Solona tried to pull together thoughts that had become foggy. Something heavy pressed against her, forcing her weight onto her arm twisted beneath her. Every piece of her body had something to complain about.

“Solona! Are you alright?” Cullen’s voice made it’s way through the gloom and she cracked her eyelids open against the light. 

The Commander almost seemed to glow as his head blocked the sun. Brown eyes traced over her face, searching for injury and his cheeks were flushed, peeling away the harsh years that had been carved into his skin.

He had never looked more attractive.

Of course that could just be bias.

She was suddenly aware of him on top of her, arms braced on either side. Her body heated and she met his eyes. The beating in her chest stopped as she realized something else.

He was close enough to kiss. 

The thought smashed through any reasoning she had been going with previously, leaving her with tatters. She traced the scar on his lip with her eyes, memorizing its curve. _Stop it._ Reaching her destination, she focused in on the lips that had parted slightly. How would they feel against hers?

_Solona, stop._

She closed her eyes and listened to her heart battering against her ears, turning seconds into several eternities. It would be wrong to act on her impulses, now more than ever.

Cullen’s weight moved off her and she barely stopped herself from pulling him back down. This crush was getting out of control. 

“Are you---?”

Solona didn’t let him finish, rolling to her feet even as her side began to ache. The world shifted in front of her, blurring colors before settling back into predictably patterns. He had been pressed into her for mere moments, not the achingly long time it felt like. “Fine.” She dusted off her robe, ignoring various pains and flashed a quick smile at the templar. “Don’t worry about it. Thank you... for your help. I’m feeling better now.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie but even if she wanted to, the truth wasn’t something she would say in front of an audience. _Kiss me._ Cullen frowned, brows pressing down, but he didn’t dispute her assessment. Instead he turned his attention to the people who had been watching them, if they didn’t have anything they were supposed to be doing, he would find something for them. 

She escaped while he was diverted; she wouldn’t have been able to move if he was still looking at her. And if she stayed... No, it was a bad idea all around. She knew better.

Probably.

oOo

The rest of the afternoon and evening fluttered by as she found things to occupy herself with. Somehow the head-healer heard about her tumble and took the time out of her busy schedule to give the mage a stare that had to be capable of critical damage. Not wanting to bother anyone, Solona carefully patched her side up herself, healing the damage her activities had caused. Maybe the healer was right. She was getting rather careless.

Eventually the mountains overtook the sun and darkness fell over Skyhold. Solona was undressed and in Leliana’s bed long before the rogue would return and she was fine with that. Sleep was always a good solution for solving problems. It gave one a fresh intake on the situation and if nothing else, helped a person to think more clearly. 

It felt like her head had only just hit the pillows when the Warden dreams hit. 

_Misshapen creatures tore through near blackness. Horns curled over heads and they roared as they fought one another for food, fun, and just for a better position. Above them all a tall figure watched and with a raised hand, drew the mass’s attention. The darkspawn opened their mouth and said…_

Solona woke as suddenly as she had fallen asleep, heart battering against her chest. The Architect’s speech floated between her ears, solidifying into words and images. Why had she dreamed of him? Nathaniel hadn’t mentioned anything about the southern Warden’s uneasy alliance when she was there less than two months ago. _Had something changed?_

All her rational thoughts couldn’t keep her limbs from beginning to shake, violence flickering back through her memories. 

“Bad dreams?” Leliana asked in her melodic Orlesian accent, rolling over to snuggle around the mage. Solona nodded into the sister’s arm and the sister started to hum a half-remembered tune softly. 

Notes wrapped around Solona’s head, offering to carry her away into blissful unawareness. She closed her eyes, riding them just out of reach of the darkspawn horde. The tranquil expanse loomed ahead and Solona felt herself yawn as her body grew heavy, Leliana kissing her on the forehead with whispers of Orlesian. 

A hand in the dark grabbed her by the ankle and claws digging into tender flesh, yanked. Tangles of vines tried to pin her down but Solona forced her body up and out of her dreams, eyes straining in the gloom even as an unsingable tune taunted her memory.

The Calling had done something similar before she killed Felicity. 

Solona’s shoulders jerked several times and Leliana didn’t bother with words this time, instead just pushing herself off the comfort of the mattress to wrap her arms around her friend. “It’s fine,” the rogue murmured into her neck. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Even knowing the words were supposed to make her feel better, Solona felt herself begin to cry harder, frustrated with this whole situation. The tensions with Cullen, the discord that was running through Skyhold, the growing feeling of running out of options combined with the ever-present guilt of… Solona curled her legs so she could hold her knees as she tried to breath normally, failing miserably. 

_She was a murderer._

The pain in her chest allowed her to slow her cries to mere sniffles, guilt clogging her throat with thick emotion. Her eyes hurt but it was nothing in comparison to what the family members of those she killed must be going through. She was alive and they weren’t, it was as simple as that.

“Leliana, I… I think I need some fresh air.”

“The moon is beautiful this time of year,” the sister agreed, pulling aside blankets to swing her legs over the side of the bed. “I think it has something to do with the stillness of the air, it’s like the whole world is holding its breath before the storm.”

Cold without her friend next to her, Solona shivered. “You… don’t need to come. I… could use some time to think.”

Even in the near blankness, she could feel the rogue’s gaze on her, burrowing into her skin to see what was underneath. 

“Very well,” Leliana said finally. “I will be here.” Solona felt her slide her legs back into bed and at an impulse, leaned over to hug one of her oldest friends. 

“Thank you, Leliana,” she whispered into the spymaster’s hair. It tickled her nose but she ignored it, rogue’s arms tight around her. 

The hallway was silent as Solona crept out into it, all the respectable people were long asleep and all the non-respectable ones were too quiet for her to hear. An odd torch lit her path as she trailed through the halls towards the familiar battlements. 

As she stepped out into the crisp night air she could have laughed. Wasn’t this almost exactly the type of thing she had been doing a year ago? So much had changed and so much stayed the same. Different reasons kept her up at night, but she still spent too much time underneath the bright spots of stars. 

Her breath paused in her throat as she caught a glimpse of Cullen’s tower, cracks of yellow light sneaking beneath thick wooden doors. So much had stayed the same. Her mind flicked back to the afternoon and the lines of the templar’s lips. So much had changed. The world continued when she didn’t want it to and then froze for several eternities at the exact moment when she would be perfectly content for months to pass. 

Solona turned away from the templar’s abode, instead snaking her way up side routes to the walkway overlooking the garden. It was a ledge of sorts, tamed nature on one side and unbridled wilderness on the other. She leaned against the wall towards the mountains and eyed the glow of the moonlight reflecting off the snow. Her head found its way into her hands and she closed her eyes, trying to fight back the solace of sleep out in the open air. 

oOo

Far too early- or too late, it was hard to tell sometimes- the Inquisitor called his advisors for a meeting at the war table. Solona waited for the messenger to tell her that her invitation was some sort of horrible joke but the words never came and so she found herself standing back with Scout Harding near the wall as the powers of Skyhold debated whether they should support Celene’s new law.

Solona fidgeted and Harding smiled at her. 

“Don’t worry,” she whispered. “If it was a judgment he would have summoned you to the Great Hall.”

The scout was right of course; that matter was something to worry about another day. She had time, or at least she was pretty sure she did. Josephine had assured her that the Inquisitor refused to make a decision until the mage was completely healed. Solona didn’t know what was going to happen on that front but she hoped it was at least clean. Standing still before a lyrium brand was not something she was capable of doing. 

“Our next concern is the status on the people who attacked the caravan. Scout Harding’s people have been tracking them for the last several weeks and she’s got the latest news.”

Harding took a step forward and saluted, fist over her heart. “The so-called bandits were mostly destroyed by our forces but a couple managed to get away during the confusion. They had a trail at the back of their camp that led through the Frostbacks to Orlais where they traveled past our allies towards Waking Sea. With the help of Lady Nightingale’s agents, we stopped the few survivors at a fishing village. Unfortunately we were unable to take them alive but some of their documents did survive. I brought them back with me for your perusal.”

The scout pulled a sack off the floor and brought it over to the war table. A quick motion had the contempts spilling out over the face of southern Thedas. Leliana grabbed one of the papers first, scanning the contents. 

“It’s in code,” she announced to the group. “Depending on how often they change it between the rest of the material, my people should have it figured out within the week.”

“Make it five days,” the Inquisitor replied, examining the pile critically. “We need to get ahead of this. I don’t want an army of Grey Wardens rampaging across the countryside. Again.”

“Of course, your Worship,” the Nightingale nodded, eyes already distant. 

Maxwell frowned as Harding and Leliana cleared the map free of obstructions. “Solona, we received your initial report of what happened at the camp. Is there anything else you would like to add.”

_The Veil rippling as blood left the prisoner’s bodies. Laughter as Old Gods slept. Lightning licking men’s skin like a deadly lover and a blade embedded into her gut._

“Only a reminder to be careful. The Venatori are able to control Wardens without the Wardens committing any sort of blood magic spell and without the aid of their master. They may have control of darkspawn as well and if that is the case, the destruction they can invoke will be unimaginable. Grey Wardens will not be able to help fight the darkspawn since we cannot get close to the Venatori without risking ourselves in the process and no one else is as well equipped to fight them. I have some connections to try to make the numbers they can call upon less, but chances are that we won’t be able to get them all.”

Josephine leaned back on her heels, scratching words onto board she carried with her. “What kind of allies do you have that can help control the darkspawn? Is it the Legion of the Dead?”

Solona kept her breathing steady as memories from last night’s nightmare flickered past her eyelids, previous terror surfacing. “I would rather not say. It is a Grey Warden matter.”

The ambassador looked curious but returned her attention back to whatever the papers she had said, eyebrows drawing down sharply as she considered something. _Is it hard,_ Solona wondered, _controlling the fate of the world?_ Even if the task was divided up between the four people in this room there was no doubt that the pressure had to be immense. She happened to meet Cullen’s soft gaze and immediately dropped her eyes to the floor, heat flooding her face and stopping her thoughts.

“Thank you Scout Harding and Hero Amell. That will be all,” the Inquisitor dismissed them, already moving on to the next matter at hand. Since Leliana would tell her most of what they would discuss later, Solona had no problem leaving with the lead-scout. 

As the War Room door shut behind them, Harding stretched, arms straining above her head. “Well, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

Solona couldn’t help it. She laughed. “And what did you expect?”

The scout waved the question off, freckles stark against her pale skin. “Something more grandiose at the very least. The Chantry and royalty might think they influence Thedas but the changing of the world really happens in that room.” Solona nodded, glad that she wasn’t the only one who had been thinking that. “Either way, I need to get going. The Nightingale wanted me at the Orlesian and Nevarran border yesterday so I will talk to you later.”

For a second, the scout’s enthusiasm lessen but then she picked it back up, grinning with a ferocity that couldn’t be natural. “Stay safe, Hero.”

The sentiment behind those three words could have bowled Solona over it was so thick. “You too, Lace.” Harding frowned good-naturedly at her and then walked swiftly off, head already deep in her next mission. 

Sunlight streamed in through the stained glass window to her left and she could just make out the gentle crackling of Josie’s fire down the hall. It was so quiet and peaceful, without the feeling of being trapped that the rooms beneath Skyhold had. A few steps forward put her in the path of the rays, warming her robe and the skin beneath. It felt nice. 

Her chest rose and fell easily, and she didn’t notice the dull ache of her side that never seemed to go away despite all the magic she kept throwing at the injury. It served as a reminder, she supposed, of everything she had done. As long as she felt that pain, she couldn’t forget.

 _Best get moving, Amell._ She enjoyed the sunlight for another extended second but then her legs started to move without her head telling them to and she was once again in the cool reality of life. 

The first stop was to the rookery to send a message to Nathaniel about her dream and asking him to let the Architect know without explicitly saying it just case someone else got a hold of the bird.

That accomplished, she allowed herself to wander, not caring where her feet led her. The lack of direction gave her the opportunity to think, something she had too much of in recent days so instead she wondered how the people from the Hinterlands were doing. She had received a single letter from Connor but nothing from Rafon. Had he gone through with trying to join the Wardens? A shiver of cold went down her spine.

_Maker, keep your children safe._

Following that train of thought, she thought of Zevran, Sten, Velanna, and all the other companions she had gained over the years only to lose contact. How were they doing? Were they alive? Hopefully Sten hadn’t ended up in that mess in Kirkwall but since the timelines didn’t add up, she figured it was a pretty safe bet. 

Solona paused her physical and mental ramblings, eyeing where her feet had taken her. She didn’t remember walking down quite so many stairs to get to the basement library but somehow she had gotten there nevertheless. 

The large tome in the center of the area drew her attention and she came up to it, dusting the open pages with her fingertips. They came back grey. 

Words unfamiliar to her glared out from the musty pages. They weren’t elvish, she had learned enough from Velanna and Ariane to be able to recognize the script at least. These were human words, but how did they end up in the basement instead of the upper library? 

She opened a book from the shelf behind the stand, flickering through the pages of faintly visible ink. If she took the time, she might be able to figure out what the book was about. It would be a distraction at the very least and by the looks of it, these books could use someone to take the time to read them again. 

The wall and floor served as a good enough chair as she settled down to peruse the pages of the book she had randomly picked. Of course the cold of the stone cut through her robes easily but she curled her legs to create a cradle for the book and eventually either her skin or the stone gave in to the temperature of the other because she no longer noticed. 

Part way through a description on the proper way to carve an authentic-looking Orlesian turtle, she was disturbed by the sound of footsteps. Pulling her eyes up from the text took more effort than it should have considering the subject matter but by the time Solona had made her way out of the labyrinth of ink, Cullen was already standing above her. 

“How did the rest of the meeting go?” Solona asked automatically, closing the leather covers of the woodcarving book. 

“As well as can be expected,” Cullen answered and offered her his hand. She grabbed it and he pulled her to her feet. “ It can get to be long sometimes.”

Pretending she knew all about long meetings, Solona nodded and smiled. Seneschal Varel had been good at short reports and keeping the nobles from having too extraneous of speeches. She couldn’t imagine listening and giving reports for several hours every few days.

She felt rather than saw the slight tension that crept through Cullen and it was only then that she noticed that she still held his hand in hers, dangling limply at their side. What warmth her hand had stolen from him rose upwards as she let go, apologizing awkwardly.

“Solona,” Cullen said softly, brown eyes taking in all her fumbles. A second passed and he sighed. “There is a word for when someone tries to do the same thing multiple times and expects a different result but by the Maker, I can't seem to stop myself.”

Despite the twisting of her gut, Solona kept herself calm. There was no point in losing it. Just because he was talking didn’t mean that they were going to talk. One didn’t instantly mean the other.

“There is no point on being subtle about it,” Cullen said, eyes fixated on his empty hand. _Was he talking to her or to himself? There might be hope yet._

“Cullen,” she interjected. If she could just stop this- _why did she want to do that again?_ \- it would be alright. Everything would be fine. “I know.”

Lips pressed together. “I know that you… have feelings for me and I won’t deny that I…” _Could she…?_ “care about you. A lot.”

Her face was probably going to explode there was so much blood rushing into it. Words flew through her head and she accidentally dropped them, scrambling the order they were supposed to go in. “I’ve had… you… this is a lot to take in…”

She barely noticed as Cullen leaned forward, placing his hand flat against the wall next to her head. “There is so much… time… that has passed… we aren’t the people...” Her heart seemed to be doing what she physically wasn’t, jumping around to avoid this entire situation.

“Solona.”

“Y…yes?” Solona looked up from where she had been drilling a hole in the templar’s chestplate with her eyes. Cullen couldn’t be more than an arm’s length away. With the cautious slowness of a man playing with fire, he placed his other hand at her waist, fingers pressing against her hip bone. Solona shuddered but couldn’t pull her gaze away from his even if she wanted to. _Even if she needed to._

A single step forward and he was close- _too close, not close enough_. The buckles of his armor brushed her chest and she could feel his warm air against her lips. Their noses were almost touching.

“Is this alright?” She didn’t know how he managed to ask the question so calmly when every breathe he exhaled ricocheted her nerves another level higher. She was going to shake apart but the look in his eyes kept her grounded. They asked questions, questions that she wanted to answer but didn’t know if she was capable of yet. Brown pools said that with a word he would step away and stop this whole mess. He wouldn’t push her. 

As if he hadn’t been a force to be reckoned with from the beginning. 

Voice having disappeared sometime since she had last spoke, Solona could only nod, an almost imperceptible movement. 

The Commander’s mouth pulled apart and he breathed in deeply. Then he closed the remaining distance between them.

Heat surged beneath Solona’s skin, not sure where it should go as Cullen’s lips pressed against her own. They were surprisingly soft yet firm, undemanding yet unyielding. She held herself perfectly still, but it felt like she was coming apart and getting built back up again, using the skin on skin contact as an anchor point. Her fingers cramped as she clutched the book she had been holding with both hands. 

Cullen pulled back, lips leaving hers. Solona blinked as her vision refocused on the man focusing in on her. His smile grew slowly, hesitantly, unsure if he should be happy yet wanting to be. He didn’t bother with words as his hand trailed off her waist, lifting to brush a stray lock of hair to the side of her face; his expression said it all.

Speaking didn’t even seem to be a possibility at this point. Solona closed her eyes and leaned into the callused hand that floated by her cheek. Cullen exhaled and then he was kissing her again, hand slipping down and around to hold the back of her neck. 

Solona could hardly think but she knew what she wanted. She had wanted it for a long time. Parting her lips slightly, she kissed him back.

The gentle stroke of his tongue on her bottom lip made her gasp, nearly dropping her book as she struggled to wrap her arms around the templar to pull him closer. He moaned softly in the back of his throat but it could have been a roar for how much it shook her. 

Cullen’s laugh stop her. She blinked up at him, not quite understanding. _What had happened to the kissing?_

Brown eyes sparkled at her and a smile tugged at his features. Shoulders shaking slightly, Cullen kissed her forehead, the gesture calming some of the liquid lightning that seemed to be coursing through her system. Her heart spluttered, not quite sure what to do with itself. The templar looked down at her, emotion that she couldn’t and wouldn’t name filling his gaze. 

Then his lips were against hers again and she barely cared as the old book fell to the ground, pages crunching. She was more interested in lions than turtles anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The drawing above is not by me, it is by my wonderful friend Stacy who, after watching me struggle with stick figures for a good half hour, whipped this out in about five minutes. She's amazing (especially considering that she did this from memory after seeing Cullen like twice).


	34. Rhythms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say thank you for reading! You guys are amazing!
> 
>  **Trigger warning:** a bit of violence in this chapter.

The only thing that she needed to end this was a good idea. She breathed evenly, staring at the head healer before shifting her gaze awkwardly to the ceiling. 

Fingers tickled her side, tracing ribs. She hated this feeling of being exposed. What had happened to modesty and to keeping clothes on during a check-up? It was a wonderful thing really. Clothes for everyone.

Solona couldn't help the shudder when the healer dug into her skin, probing for damage.

“I believe everything has healed properly,” Solona said for the third time in several minutes. “My scan shows—“

“Magic can’t tell you everything,” the healer interjected softly, pausing her jabs to feel out something in Solona’s stomach. “Thinking otherwise is a good way to end up as a perfectly healthy corpse."

Years of training as a magical healer had Solona opening her mouth to object but the woman kept talking before she managed to articulate a single word.

“I’m not saying magic isn't useful because it is. It can cut healing time in half without even trying, but sometimes people forget how dangerous it is.”

That sounded like a templar talking. “What do you mean?” Solona asked finally, feeling uncomfortable. 

The healer gave her side one finally assessing jab before speaking. “Think about it for a moment. You healed yourself while barely conscious. You stopped the external bleeding and extended your life from mere minutes to several days. But you still would have died and it would have been a more horrible death than if you had just left it alone. If Skyhold didn’t have the number of skilled healers and mages that it does, you would have slowly poisoned yourself and it would have been excruciating.”

“But if it hadn't been for magic, I would have died,” Solona said, anger flashing quietly despite the crystalline logic of the healer. Magic was a gift with which mages helped the world.

“Yes, yes. You are right. But that is not what I’m trying to get at,” the head healer responded calmly, blue eyes gentle. “I just want you to understand that sometimes the best results are with a combination of magical and nonmagical techniques.”

Wishing she felt less like a stubborn child, Solona nodded. It made sense, of course it did. Magic could heal almost any wound or a majority of the diseases as if they had never been, but sometimes it was best to let it be. Like letting a minor sickness run its course so the patient could develop an immunity to it instead of coming to the healer every time. Or when she let that dwarf child go without a fully healed arm so he would learn not to jump off tall objects. 

The only problem was deciding what the situation called for and then acting on it. Wynne had known how to do that.

Solona thanked the head healer for the assessment and the advice, pulling her robes back down. The woman laughed. “Don’t worry about it child. I am just glad you weren't offended by my opinions. And in case you were wondering, I agree with your scan. You are completely healed although the tissue might be weak for a little longer so I would recommend avoid getting in any fights for the next week or so.” 

This last bit of advice came with a pointed look and Solona's face warmed. _Of course she had heard._

A final thank you and Solona left the dark confines of the critical patient rooms for the last time as a patient, trailing upwards towards fresh air and sunlight.

If she thought about it, the healer’s advice didn’t apply to just to healing, it could adapted to life as well. Don’t rush things that can happen naturally on their own. Life was too short just to ruin something because you didn’t have the patience to see it through.

Solona turned on the landing to head towards the rookery and thought of Cullen. And she smiled.

oOo

All warm thoughts of the templar vanished when she found Josephine and Leliana talking quietly in the rookery and looked at her with eyes of predators. The spymaster, as always, was some sort of bird of prey, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Josie reminded her more of a great feline, allowing her grace and beauty lure her victim into a sense of peace before she pounced. Combined, there was no way she could escape. 

The two women glanced at each other, smiled slightly, and turned to face her. 

Solona took an unconscious step back.

“Did you enjoy the selections of our basement library?”

The ambassador wasn’t even being subtle about it. Despite her efforts, Solona felt herself blush. It hadn’t even been half a day. She expected Leliana to know, the rogue knew everything it seemed, but she had hoped for more time to get used to the situation herself before she was interrogated. 

“Yes…” These women wanted her to build her own coffin. Grey and blue eyes watched her, waiting for the moment when she would trip up, and they would descend to feast on her embarrassment. _Tread carefully, Amell._

“You know,” Leliana added, almost conversationally. “I heard our dear Commander was looking for a book down there as well. Did you happen to see him?”

She was going straight for the kill. Not that it really matter how the two woman phrased it, Solona’s face was still probably going to melt. 

“I… he…” she began then faltered. Leliana was her closest friend and Josephine had quickly become someone whose opinion she valued. Honesty was important, and it wasn’t like they didn’t already know. “I did see him,” she decided on finally.

Josie’s grin lengthened and Leliana’s own smile grew more genuine. “I hope you both found what you were looking for,” the rogue said softly. Solona nodded and tried to remember what she had come up here to do in the first place. She would probably never know. Instead, she settled down to listen to the two advisor’s conversation on various topics. 

It was relaxing, talking to these women that she had to honor of calling friends. Compared to a number of her encounters recently, this one was nice. Something in her chest fluttered when the two advisors got caught up in a discussion- _on a particular type of shoes?_ -and she leaned back on the box she was using as a chair. 

She felt strange. Not bad, per se, but different. It was familiar though, like the feel of an old rug beneath her toes.

The answer clicked even as Josie turned to ask her opinion on their discussion. She was happy. Honestly happy. She wasn’t quite sure how she responded to the question but the ambassador seemed content even as Leliana brought up another point. 

Despite everything that had happened and that everything that loomed over the horizon, she found happiness here amongst the Inquisition. Solona shook her head, amusement flickering beneath her skin like the brush of feathers. Maybe there was hope for her yet.

oOo

Solona had never quite realized how intimidating doors were before. Solid and large, they were designed to keep people in their separate areas, unable to interact. As doors went, Cullen’s wasn’t overly impressive but it did force her to consider questions that she would rather avoid. 

What if she had misinterpreted what had happened in the basement library? Cullen might have just… just…

Even her old anxieties couldn’t come up with a logical explanation. She knew Cullen too well and he wasn’t the type of person to take something like…that… as a joke.

Unbidden, she brushed her lips with the back of her hand, wondering if anyone could tell that they were different. _She had kissed him._ Embarrassment colored her cheeks and she turned her gaze to the door handle. To act normal or to take the time to figure exactly what her next move would be?

Then again, she did have the habit of overthinking things. 

Before she could talk herself out of it, Solona pushed open the door and walked into Cullen’s office, heart noticing her proximity to the man and responding accordingly.

For a brief second she thought that he was somewhere else and her nervous energy faltered. Her eyes caught a shimmer of metal and then she saw him, standing by one of his bookcases and reading. Thumps in her chest skipping a beat, she came forward to look over his arms at the book.

“Anything interesting?”

Cullen laughed, low noise tickling her skin before it settled in her chest. She loved his laugh. “The physical characteristics of varghests are never interesting, but it is something that I need to know.” He shut the book with a clap that made the mage jump before turning to face her. 

His expression made her knees tremble. With the gentle care of a man who knew exactly what kind of damage his hands could bring, Cullen reached up to brush the side of her face with two fingers. “And how are you doing? Did your meeting with the healer go well?”

Without any rational thought prompting her, Solona kissed the templar’s knuckles as they passed. Cullen paused then turned his hand so that he was cupping her face. Solona rubbed her cheek into his skin and then raised her gaze to meet his eyes, trying to remember exactly what he had asked. _It probably isn’t important anyways._

Cullen took a deep breath, closing his eyes for an infinite moment before reopening them. His hand felt tense against her skin, moving to hover a breath away. He didn’t need to verbalize the questions he wanted to ask, she could see them clearly printed in his eyes.

Had anything changed in the last few hours? Were they still… was this okay?

They were really too much alike.

Deciding that words were as useless as ever, Solona pushed herself up onto the balls of her feet and pressed her lips to his. 

For a second Cullen didn’t move- _had she startled him?_ \- and then he was kissing her back. Solona relaxed and wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers running through the fur around his shoulders. Large hands found their place at her waist, sending waves of heat through her core. Was it wrong for this to feel so right?

Her back bumped into the ridges of the bookshelf and she laughed, burying her face into Cullen’s neck. His skin smelt… good. She kissed the flesh closest to her and the fingers around her waist tightened. Emboldened, Solona grinned and slowly worked her way up from the smooth surface of his neck to the prickle of his jawline. His chest pressed against hers as Cullen’s breathing increased.

One of the hands at her waist raised to her face, a solidifying touch as Solona’s world centered on physical sensations. A gentle bite against her bottom lip as their faces blended together once once, callused fingers stroking her cheek, the feeling of his heart pounding just as hard as hers. This was… there was no good word to describe the tight pleasure squeezing her chest. 

She opened her mouth willingly to the question he didn’t need to verbalize and as their tongues danced, figuring out exactly how the tempo of this song would go, she felt it all change. Her hands clenched in his fur lining and yanked him closer, crushing her shoulders between the templar and the bookshelf. She wanted, needed, him pressed into her. Something low ached in her lower gut and she could almost feel white sparks forming on her skin. 

Cullen wasn’t faring much better. His breath, when he managed to take it, was ragged and occasionally the hand at her waist would spasm, gripping tight before he remembered himself. The feeling of restrained strength only increased the sensation of sparks. He was a powerful man, which she often forgot for how gentle he was with her. Years of being a soldier had shaped him into the person he was, physically and mentally. 

They pulled away from each other at the same time, air rasping through their lungs as mage and templar rested their foreheads against each other. 

“You are so…” Cullen paused then laughed at himself. “I’m really no good at this.”

Solona’s smile was genuine as she tilted her head up to look at him. Lips swollen from her kisses, eyes dark, and even his hair, pressed down with some sort of chemical, had been ruffled as if he had just woken up; his fur lining looked more like it had belonged to an angry ally cat than some majestic beast. 

“You are perfect,” she told him, blushing slightly and to solidify that remark, she kissed him, lips closed. He moaned quietly and hands moving around to her shoulders, pushed her back against the bookcase. A single nibble and she was sparking again. It has been too long. 

The full meaning of the thought grounded her, energy dissipating. Cullen’s lips still worked against her own but her overwhelming lust was gone, replaced by a tinge of sadness and… something. 

She really shouldn’t be thinking about someone else while kissing Cullen. Even if that someone had been her husband.

Tempo of the kisses slowed till they were merely pressing against each other, trying to become one body instead of two. It didn’t work and they parted, Cullen’s broad hands tracing down her back as he looked at her.

What was he seeing?

She smiled, hopefully not as shakily as she felt, and grabbed his hand as it paused at her hip. She turned it over in to trace the palm, contemplating the size difference. 

Bringing his hand up to her face, she kissed the center. Almost unconsciously, his fingers curled in, moving over her cheekbone as if it belonged there. Solona met his still-dark gaze and around them, the world froze. 

“I suppose… I should get some work done,” Cullen said as their heartbeats ticked the time past.

“Would you like any help?” She wasn’t quite ready to leave. She wanted to stay and enjoy whatever this was before like so many things in her life it disappeared. 

“I would like that,” Cullen smiled at her, closed-lipped but still a full one and her heart melted. If he was a fisherman she would have said that he had gotten her to swallow the bait. There was no way she’d ever be able to get away from him now. 

It took only a few minutes for them to assume the positions that they had taken dozens of time before. She curled up on the couch he had brought in for her so many months ago and he sat behind his desk, glaring down reports as if that would make the world organize itself. If anyone could bring order to the world, she wouldn’t bet against him.

Comforted by the familiarity of the action, Solona turned her gaze to the documents in her hands and began to read. 

oOo

They were running. The fact that they could barely see where they were going meant very little as they charged towards the smell of blood and death. Shrieks and the clatter of metal echoed in the dark caves, rebounding along the walls so that it felt they were already in the midst of the chaos. 

A few hundred lengths later and they were. 

The fight seemed about equal from what Solona could tell even without seeing who exactly was fighting. But as the darkspawn charged, joining their brethren in clashing weapons against the solidly-built opponents, Solona felt herself sicken but couldn’t move.

Outnumbered, the dwarves tried to retreat but the darkspawn swarmed them. A genlock crushed the skull of a male while the single emissary vaporized one whose helmet hide their gender. Dying soldiers screamed as the creatures of the Blight took them down, one by one. 

In the distance, a single dwarf rallied the troop, shouting commands. Around him, a living wall formed, dwarves refusing to back down as they braced their shields to give the archers time to load. The ground beneath them rumbled as a ogre stormed from the black abyss of the Deep Roads, roaring loud enough to shake the stalactites.

The dwarves didn’t flinch. Not even as the ogre charged, crushing anyone unfortunate enough to be in its way, friend and enemy alike. 

The wall the dwarves made fractured like the stone they called themselves the children of. Bodies spun in all directions and the dwarf that had been shouting commands earlier lowered his axe. The fight barely lasted two seconds before he was smashed into a nearby rock face and went down. Even as distanced as she was, she could tell that he wasn’t going to get back up.

Heads didn’t usually turn that way. 

Without their leader, the rest of the dwarves tried to retreat only to find themselves surrounded. Solona tried to close her eyes, to turn away from the horror that she knew was going to happen but she found that she couldn’t. She couldn’t even blink.

For a second, neither side moved. Then from somewhere amidst the thin press of bodies a low voice rose. It wasn’t loud enough for her to make out the words but barely two lines had passed before someone else joined in. Then another. And another. 

The darkspawn didn’t know what to make of this as a chorus of dwarves sung a low haunting tune at them. Finally one raised his bow and shot an arrow. It struck a dwarf through the throat and they fell, silent once more. 

Spell broken the darkspawn charged, swinging their weapons even as the dwarves readied theirs.

It was a slaughter.

Solona tried to break away, to flee, as the stone turned damp and the choir turned into a handful of singers, to a quartet, to a duet and finally, a solo. But she couldn't move.

The last member of the band continued the song as the darkspawn surrounded him, lips open ever so slightly in the midst of his thick black beard. His tattoos stood out starkly against his skin and he swallowed, licking his lips before starting the chorus again. 

She didn’t see his death, just heard it as the cavern once again had only the sounds of death and growls. Her view switched so she could see the battleground in its entirety. It wasn’t just dwarves that covered the ground, at least twice as many twisted bodies lumped the smooth surface. Everyone was dead.

Solona was crying even before she woke up.

Tears tickled her cheeks as they slid down, slipping past the corners of her mouth. She tasted salt and pressed the back of her hand into her eyes, trying to stem the sobs that pressed against her throat. Her darkspawn dreams were not figments of demons’ imaginations, as far as the Wardens could tell, they were real. The taint was a powerful connection between creatures of the Blight.

She curled up, legs wrapped in a blanket and buried her face in the coarse wool. The image of that final Legion member, singing in the face of death, burned the back of her eyes. Sigrun had barely avoided being like them.

“Solona?” Cullen asked and she heard him stand, walking around his desk. _She was in his office?_ The fog of memory told that she had closed her eyes from reading reports for just a second. She must have drifted off. 

“What happened?” The couch shifted as the templar added his weight to it. After a second’s pause, he wrapped his large arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him, like a child. Despite her discomfort at this image, it did feel nice to be held. 

She nuzzled her nose into his chestplate, breathing deeply. “It was nothing. Just a dream.”

Cullen pressed his cheek into the top of her head and sighed loudly. He didn’t like that it was something he could do nothing about. 

Trying to distract herself, Solona traced the metal outlines of Cullen’s armor. She had held back the worst of the emotion that clawed against her chest, leaving only sniffles and silent tears. But the question remained. Why was she having so many darkspawn dreams? Usually they were once every few days or even once a week but for them to happen regularly…

She wasn’t hearing the Calling, was she?

Older Wardens had described what it felt like, a tune she couldn’t get out of her head. 

_She had heard it before._

Solona stiffened in Cullen’s arms and then quickly started to disentangle herself from him, even as her skin ached for his embrace. 

Biting her lip, she started to pace, walking from one end of the office to the other. It wasn’t nearly enough room to think clearly. Cullen watched her without speaking, concern present in his stillness. Even with the tenseness, her heart thumped with a dull ache to have him so near. 

“Cullen,” she began, trying to make her jumbled thoughts into a coherent idea. “Do you think it’s possible that the Venatori woman might have… changed something when she took over?”

It sounded ridiculous even as she said it, but she trusted the templar’s opinion. She trusted _Cullen_ and no matter what he thought, hearing his voice and ideas would reassure her. 

“What makes you think that?”Cullen’s reply was straight-forward, no nonsense like the rest of him.

Solona’s hands fluttered as she thought but she pinned them quickly to her sides. “You know that Wardens have nightmares? Well, they don’t happen every night and when they do, the Warden gets ready for the end. I should have another decade at least before I start to hear the Calling but ever since… that happened, I’ve been dreaming of darkspawn every time I close my eyes.”

Brows down in a tense expression, Cullen considered it, Solona waiting anxiously to see what he thought of her analysis. 

“I won’t admit to know everything about how being a Warden works,” the Commander said carefully. “But you said you heard the Calling when you were… controlled. Perhaps the Venatori made the taint more… prominent. It would explain the dreams.” His face shifted back from a leader to a friend to something more and unable to help herself, Solona crept into his arms again, kissing his chin in an attempt to smooth some of the lines that were growing on his handsome face. 

“Don’t worry,” she murmured, pressing her face against his neck as he tightened his grip on her. “I don’t have any desire to go to the Deep Roads. I won’t be leaving any time soon.”

Cullen breathed out and kissed her head, hand running down her arm, soothing them both. “Maker, Solona… you….” Instead of trying to figure out exactly what he was going to say, he pulled her closer, pressed tight against his armor as if he could protect her from everything in the world.

“I know,” Solona whispered, managing to get an arm around him as well. “I…” the words fumbled in her mouth, tearing something instead. She couldn’t say it. Not yet. “I’m right here.” She kissed his plate and closed her eyes, gathering scattered emotions. “I’m not going anywhere.”


	35. Social Life

The skin was soft against her hand, surprisingly smooth. Solona traced a shoulder blade then made her way down the back before moving up to pet the horse’s neck. 

“You are a good horse,” she told it as the animal nibbled her fingers to see if she had any treats. “I can’t give you anymore. I got scolded last time, apparently you are gaining weight.” The horse nickered as if complaining that they were not fat and then bent to sniff the floor. 

Solona laughed and ruffled its mane. She had an ear flicked at her for her troubles. “Fine. Enjoy spending some time by yourself then.” To make up for any harshness in her words, Solona gave the horse a quick hug and cracking the stall door open, crept out.

Immediately she shivered and rewrapped her cloak around her shoulders. Winter had come early this year, sooner than the previous year in Skyhold at the very least. A pack of youngsters ran by laughing, a small light-haired human child chasing after them. They weren’t bothered by the changes in temperature. 

In the distance, one of the mountains had begun to stab the sun, signaling the end to another day. _And the beginning another night spent working with Cullen._ The smile and heat that grew across her face felt odd, but nice. She tripped over a loose stone, but barely noticed as her hand brushed the railing along the stairs. 

“Hey Solona!” A familiar voice yelled. She turned slightly to see a figure waving at her. “You don’t intend on wandering off again, do you? We barely see you anymore.”

“Laeven!” Solona grinned. “When did you get back from Rivani?”

“Just several days ago and let me tell you, nothing beats the comforts of snow-covered mountains. I’ve missed losing feeling in various appendages. It’s nostalgic in a way.”

Solona laughed. He hadn’t changed that much in the last year, at least very few scars were visible. “I’m glad you see you’re alright.”

“Of course, of course. But come on, don’t expect to get away tonight. You will relax and we will be reacquainted. Yes?”

Her eyes automatically went to Cullen’s tower. It was more of a shadow than an actual shape with the setting of the sun. Just a short walk away to join him, she could be there before the remaining daylight was eaten by the mountains.

_But…_

“Just for a while,” Solona agreed. _She needed to take care of her friends._ “Shall I buy you a drink?”

Laeven grinned. “You’re going to buy me more than one, sweetie. Now let’s go!”

Shaking her head, Solona allowed herself to be dragged to the tavern. Voices lured them into the brightly light building. _It’s not as extreme as before though._

Maryden was in the midst of her set, singing while plucking at her lute. The cheerful rhythm raised the atmosphere of people drinking away their day to one of people enjoying themselves. A group of off-duty soldiers gathered in a corner playing dice while several others danced in the center clearing. Laughter rained down from the upper levels. 

It had been a while since she had been here. One of the last times was when she had confessed to Cullen and now she and he were… Solona blushed. She didn’t quite know what they were but she was excited to find out. 

Laeven found a place at a table near the back wall and got them some drinks. Solona tried not to wince as the fumes from the mug wafted under her nose. 

“What is this?” she asked, resisting the urge to poke the dark liquid. 

“Qunari alcohol. I got a taste for it when I was in Rivani. Nothing else burns the throat as it goes down.” Laeven took a swift sip and started coughing. “Perfection.”

Solona stared from her friend to the mug and then carefully pushed her drink towards him. “I’m already tainted. Thank you though.” The huntsman shrugged and took another choking sip. The Warden blinked and carefully placed her hands under the table. She would rather drink darkspawn blood again.

Even without alcohol the evening began to blur. As the world outside darkened, more and more people trooped into the tavern, bumping into each other and raising the temperature of the building. It was warm and the atmosphere was light. Somehow it didn't take long for Nevrah to appear and demand a dance. 

Strong but slender hands pulled her around the stairs to the one area clear of both tables and chairs. “Give us something to dance to, Maryden!” The elf shouted and with a broad smile, the bard complied. The rhythms melded with the sounds of tavern life and before Solona stopped laughing at the craziness of it all, they moving.

Life in the Circle hadn’t taught her how to dance, and life with Alistair wasn’t conducive for learning proper dancing but Solona still loved it. She and Nevrah locked arms, whirling around in a tight circle before parting. The elf stomped her feet to the floor in some unfathomable rhythm and Solona just moved with the song, arms swaying. 

Maryden had barely finished plucking out the end notes of one song before Nevrah was calling for another. This tune was more familiar, which brought more dancers out of their respective corners. Solona shortly found herself in the arms of a grinning Inquisition soldier, world blurring around them. They bumped into other dancers who also bumped into them, but for a magical moment, no one seemed to care.

“Do you enjoy pretending that you didn’t send good people to their deaths?”

Solona tripped but the soldier kept her from falling, steadying her against strong arms. Their pause forced other dancers in the tight space to slow their movements as well, allowing Solona to see who had spoken even as Maryden paused her song.

She knew him. Tall, thin, with brown hair cut close to his skull, the man had been a mage from the Cumberland Circle. He had reached the level of Senior Enchanter by the age of thirty and was well on his way to First when the Circles fell. An icon to many mages. 

Solona was aware it wasn’t just templars shaken by what had happen, but it still hurt. 

“I can’t pretend that,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. Even with the muffled quiet growing in the room that had once been so warm, it was unclear if the mage could hear her. “I carry the images of their deaths with me every moment of the day.”

The mage snorted. “And yet you resist Judgment? You are a disgrace to all mages and everything we have worked so hard to achieve.”

“What da ya know?” The soldier at Solona’s side said suddenly. “While you were safe in your Circle or within the walls of Skyhold, this woman has been out helping people. She has done more good for your mages—“

“You’re a mundane. Your opinion hardly matters,” the mage scoffed. Behind him several other mages looked anywhere from uncomfortable and embarrassed to vindictive. All shuffled aside as someone new entered. 

“While I disagree with some of what you said, mage, you are right about the so-called Hero. She needs to be dealt with as an example to anyone, mage or not, for what happens when you turn on your comrades.” It was the female warrior from before, Solona searched for a name. _Karen. That was it._

The mage curled his lip but Nevrah’s voice came in before his. “I think your problem is that you’re a cranky hag who hasn’t been laid since your Andraste marched on the Imperium. That’s why you lash out at people.”

Karen looked as if she was going to explode. “You are nothing more than a vagrant, pretending that you belong.”

“As least I look good doing it.”

Fist tightening on the sword at her side, Karen nearly growled, “In the end it does matter. A number of us have brought this matter up to the Inquisitor. He will deal with it. In the meanwhile, the Hero will be brought into custody.”

The soldier Solona had been dancing with stepped in front of her. “If you think anyone with a sense of justice or a lick of loyalty to the Commander will let that happen, you’re in for a nasty surprised.”

Karen sighed. “She is a murderer and yet you defend her. Justice will be upheld. That, I promise you.” And then the woman drew her sword. 

With a rasp, several members of the dance floor pulled out weapons as well, Nevrah drawing two wicked daggers from somewhere- _why had all these people brought weapons to a tavern?_ Solona took a step back, needing to get away from the melee fight that was rushing towards them. She needed to stop this somehow. She needed to—

A hand covered her mouth and something sharp pressed into her side. “I’ve got you abomination,” someone whispered into her ear. A templar. 

Her friends weren’t even looking at her as they charged at the people who were trying to take her captive, not even seeing that she was already caught. Solona pulled on her magic, letting instincts create the lightening. 

The world blurred as the templar cleansed the mana from her. Solona nearly fell, but the knife at her side forced her to focus. Her skin burned even as the shock of loss caused her eyes to swarm with tears. _She needed to fight! What had Zevran taught her again?_

Old lessons struggled to reach her consciousness and she tried to give herself room to move. The knife dug further into her skin, causing her to whimper against the glove of her captor’s hand. “None of that now,” the man murmured as Karen and Nevrah started to fight, the elf a near blur. Other people she knew, personally or not, had started fighting, throwing themselves against each other. Inquisition against Inquisition.

_What had she done?_

She had to get out of here. Steeling her courage, Solona bit the gloved hand covering her mouth. Something sharp pierced her and then the man was gone, falling away.

“Solona! Are you alright? We need to move!” Someone… _Laeven…_ yelled at her, waving a freshly broken bottle of ale at her. A soaking templar lay crumpled between them, face pale. He was still breathing even as a red liquid intermixed with the alcohol covering his forehead. 

“Let’s go!” Laeven moved around the body, barely avoiding someone falling from the stairs. Apparently the fighting had moved up a floor as well. People were getting hurt. 

“I can’t,” Solona heard herself say, barely audible with the din. Laeven grabbed her by the shoulder. “What are you talking about? Oh—“ He swore and moved in front of her as someone came at them, blade glinting. 

As her friend blocked the weapon that was meant for her, Solona tried for her magic. Nothing. She needed… _the templar!_ Many had yet to follow after Cullen and so they probably… Her fingers fumbled over the man’s unconscious form as she tried to find any pockets large enough to hold… Smooth glass against her skin. 

Solona yanked out the bottle of blue liquid shining slightly in the bright light of the tavern. In a single familiar motion she unplugged the top but before she could press the edge to her lips, Laeven crashed into her. “Solona, get out of here!” The man threw himself at his opponent, giving Solona the space to think. Just for a second.

The front of her robe was soaked but there was just a bit left in the bottle. At the edge of room, a body thumped to the floor, red liquid beginning it’s journey. _Andraste, make it be enough._ Solona threw back her head and drained the remaining lyrium.

It was like fire erupted in her veins as her magic came back to her. Her limbs steadied and she stood, taking in the chaos. This needed to end. Now. 

Her hands began to glow a pale yellow as she cast, slowly raising her arms up. Pressure built behind her eyes, making the world distort. She was going to use everything she had and more and hope it’d be enough. It had to be enough. 

With a hoarse shout, Solona threw her hands out, expanding the spell. The air in the tavern thickened and the patrons’ movement’s grew sluggish, a mockery of life. Even as the edges of her vision blurred, Solona could tell she had gotten a large portion of the building. Somehow the contents of the bottle had been enough. 

It felt more like a dream than reality when she fell, floor coming up to her as if it had all the time in the world. She barely felt the impact and the boots in front of her faded, leaving only darkness.

oOo

_A light bobbed in the abyss, unaware that it was about to be swallowed. Occasionally the yellow flames would reveal craggy stone walls and yawning gaps of tunnels. There was no way the little illumination that the torch gave could be compared to the smothering dark, but oblivious to it all, the light kept going, never faltering in its journey._

_More lights joined in, each bopping along to their own tune. Some more faster than the original light and others slower, racing towards an unseen goal. Numbers increased and then increased again, like stars in a night’s sky. It was awe-inspiring but for some reason she couldn’t understand, it was also terrifying._

_In the distance, the darkness lightened, turning grey. Shades of color flickered by till she could start to make out the shapes of the beings that held the torches. Darkspawn._

_They entered into the bright expanse of a cavern and torches fell in honor of the great vats of flame that lined the area. Ogres, genlocks, hurlocks, shrieks, emassaries… every type of darkspawn she had ever seen and many that she couldn’t even recognize._

What was this?

_As one, the assembled horde turned to face a single side of the cavern where a ledge protruded out of the rock wall. A thin figure dressed in dark robes strode out on to it, raising grey arms high._

_“Brothers! Our time has come!”_

“Solona.”

_“For too long, we have been considered the scum of the world.”_

“Please Solona, wake up.” It was as the cavern was experiencing an earthquake and no one else was noticing. 

_“And we have been. Mindless, thoughtless, following the whims of the taint which urged us to fight, to wreck havoc against anything that moved.”_

How could no one notice the shaking?

_“But no more, my brothers. We will rise! We will show everyone exactly why they should fear us and this… this will be the age of the darkspawn.”_

Solona came to with the grace of a child learning to walk for the first time. In lurches. Bright light streamed through her eyes and she moaned as her side ached. Shouldn’t that be healed? Then it hit her. The pain was coming from the wrong side. 

She sat up before she even realized that she was moving. Her balance was off but a slender hand stopped her from falling. Eyes still foggy with memories of the darkspawn dream, Solona tracked the hand and attached arm to their owner. Leliana.

“Is everyone alright?” she asked, voice coming out more raspy than she would have liked. 

“A few serious injuries but nothing fatal. Everyone’s still alive,” the Nightingale answered, tracking the mage’s movements carefully. 

_Life is hope._

Solona slumped back against… the stairwell and closed her eyes, trying to organize the events properly in her head. “This is all my fault.”

Leliana hissed. “The idiots who decided it was a good idea to start a fight in a tavern are the ones to blame. Cullen is dealing with them.”

_Cullen._

“Is he…?” She didn’t quite know what she wanted to ask. Cullen wouldn’t blame her and knowing him, he wouldn’t even be irritated at her. So why did she feel so uneasy?

“He’s fine. Angry about the situation, but he’ll get over it. The only reason he isn’t here right now is the lyrium.”

 _What?_ It took her a long second to look down at the top of her robes where the spilled lyrium almost glowed against the dark cloth. She could smell its metallic crisp and almost taste the liquid lightning.

No wonder Cullen was waiting outside. 

Beyond the kneeling rogue, Inquisition soldiers picked up the broken remains of furniture. The bartender growled at some who stepped near his area, instead sweeping up the scattered bottles himself. A familiar blue healing light came from a corner where some of the combatants waited to be taken care of. One held their arm at an awkward angle while the rest covered sore points with opposite palms. Leliana was right. It could have been worse.

But it could have been a lot better.

The Inquisitor stormed into the tavern with all the authority his name and titles bestowed upon him. Dark eyes perused the scene before flickering down the two Fifth Blight veterans. “Commander Cullen has already informed me what has happened but I want to hear what you have to say.”

None-too shakily, Solona got to her feet. Honesty was key. “A fraction was trying to get you to pass judgment. My… friends objected.” It was simplified but accurate. 

Maxwell’s eyes narrowed. He wasn’t particularly tall nor strong-looking, but Solona’s heart still skipped a beat. The Inquisitor was frightening up close. 

Then the Free Marcher sighed.

“You do realize the trouble you are causing, don’t you?”

Solona ducked her head, guilt mixing with relief as the tension faded. “Have you decided what you are going to do?”

“There are no good opinions. I had naively hoped that while we waited for you to heal some of their anger would fade but this…. It’s clear that they will not give up.” The Inquisitor glared at the destruction around them. “I need some time to think.”

She didn’t blame him. The Inquisitor’s shoulders seemed to bend inward as he left, walking alone out of the light of the tavern. Leliana stopped Solona as she took a step forward and shook her head. _But…_ Solona frowned. _Would Josie be able to help him? He had a tough decision, and there was no one to make it for him. No one but…_

Her thought stopped before they could reach could reach their conclusion. She didn’t want that particular idea to show on her face, especially in front of the ever perceptive Nightingale. 

“I should probably go talk to Cullen,” Solona managed instead. Leliana didn't seem to notice, distracted by something happening behind her. She'd take it. “I’ll be back later tonight!” 

Leliana said something in return but Solona didn't quite catch it, avoiding the soldiers picking up the pieces of the fight. The chill of the outside world struck her like a blow to her face, causing her to wrap her arms around herself. A wind caught at her clothes, tugging her to the side. She grabbed at her hair and looked around for a golden man who always seemed to stand above the rest. 

It was only a matter of seconds before she spotted him, talking to a soldier, face stern. Then, as if he too could do magic, he changed. His rigid stance dropped and the creases disappeared from his face as his eyes alit in her. The soldier he had been speaking to said something, saluted, and left. Cullen strode over to her and before she had quite realized it, she was buried in his arms, nose squishing against his chest. 

In less than two weeks this already felt familiar, comfortable even. Solona nuzzled into her place, cloth rubbing against her cheeks. He wasn’t in his armor, must have been getting ready for bed when he heard the commotion. Hopefully he hadn’t been sleeping. 

Cullen drew her back so he could get a good look at her. His eyes narrowed at the blood matting her side and she touched it hesitantly. Just a nick. “Don’t worry,” she told him.. “It’s just a flesh wound. When I some mana back, I can heal it away.” The hands on her shoulders tightened fractionally but he didn’t say anything.

Breathing slowly, the templar turned his gaze away, hands dropping from her. “We… we should probably get you changed.” Solona blinked at him even as his nostrils quivered. The lyrium wasn’t as suffocating as it had been in the bright, tight tavern but an addict would still be able to notice it. 

“I’d rather just get out of here,” she said, taking his hand carefully in her own. He smiled down at her, squeezing her hand gently. 

Even with the shouts of the soldiers, it was quiet as they made their way up to Cullen’s tower. The moon had risen on the horizon, casting a pale light over the ancient fortress. It was soothing in a way, calm in comparison to the garish illumination of the sun. The stairs proved no trouble and they entered the Commander’s office. 

Finding the cloak she had left the previous day, Solona wrapped it around her shoulders, tying it tight in front to prevent the liquid from catching the templar’s eye. 

“How’s that?” 

“Better,” Cullen said, shutting the door behind him. “I think I have it under control but it still calls to me. Sometimes I wonder what the harm would be in just a taste…” He shook his head and double checking that nothing was visible, Solona went back to him, pressing her palm above his heart. 

His words paused as he stared down at her. A muscular arm came around her back, pulling her close. She could feel the damp patch against her skin and hoped that he didn't notice. “You really are too kind,” Cullen murmured, eyes deepening in the flickering light of a nearby candle. 

She didn’t have time to respond to that comment as Cullen leaned down and captured her lips in his own. For the briefest of instants she considered pulling back to ask what he meant but then all thoughts trickled off to give them their space. Solona’s hand curled on the templar’s chest while her other one reached up to grip his upper arm. 

Cullen groaned softly in the back of his throat and suddenly he bent, scooping her up in his arms all while never taking his mouth off hers. Solona gasped, turning to glance at the ground below her and Cullen moved to her jawline, tracing the sensitive skin underneath. 

She shuddered, sparks starting to splutter. 

They reached the couch and Cullen sat, settling her in his lap with both legs to one side. Something pressed into her backside and small lightning rippled across her shoulders. Tightening her grip on his arms, she went back to kissing him, pausing only to suck on his bottom lip. 

As her teeth ran across the smooth surface, Cullen shivered, hand spasming at the small of her back. It coiled tightly against her one moment and then loose and tranquil the next. He drew away, breathing hard. Her hearted matched his own as she opened her eyes, only to melt against the power of brown pools. 

“Solona, I don’t… you…” the man attempted but she shifted slightly, causing his words to splutter out. As she traced the rapid pulse of his throat with her mouth, hands massaging his arms, he tried again. “Are we…”

She caught a piece of flesh between her teeth, pressing down slightly and he gave up, growling. In a flash, she was falling into the cushion of the coach, Cullen’s hand braced behind her head, keeping it from slamming into the hard end of the furniture. Legs now on the floor, Solona felt a bit steadier, but not by much. Cullen had most his weight braced against the arm in between her and the rest of the world but that didn't stop his body from pressing into her in all the right ways. 

Surrounded by the couch and the templar, Solona felt her existence narrow into the feelings on this small red piece of furniture that Cullen had gotten her so many months ago. The man kissed her, tongue making her head spin. He shouldn't be this good at this. Wasn't he a Chantry boy? 

She moaned, arching her back in order to press him that much closer. Her skin itched with warmth and even the brush of his arm against hers had sparks lighting up. 

“Cullen,” she breathed, name feeling right in her mouth. The man on top of her shuddered, drawing back a breath. His eyes were closed, lips drawn tight. Solona felt his control, an unshakable fountain, wavering. He wanted something, something besides the result on the path they were treading. But he wasn’t sure how to ask it. 

If she didn't know the question, how was she supposed to answer him? 

She wiggled and tugged her hands out from underneath him, cupping his face in both her hands. “Cullen, I was never good with words around you. Nor, you with me.” She blushed slightly as the Commander’s eyes opened. _Now how was she supposed to think straight?_

“I've always… cared for you. I'm sure you know that. Back in the Circle we would do our dance. You were my rock even then.” Solona laughed, turning her head away from Cullen’s stare. It was doing weird things to her body, turning organs to oatmeal. “What I'm trying to say is… I can't imagine not having you in my life.” 

The strength of the sentiment and the poor wording closed her eyes, embarrassment flooding her cheeks. _Was it too soon?_ She knew she had wanted to say it, to say more than that actually, but sometimes her relationship with Cullen felt so fragile. She didn't know what would push it too far or…

She felt his breath against her cheek an instant before his lips pressed against the skin. A weight settled against the side of her face as Cullen leaned his forehead into her. His low laughter tickled the fine hairs of her face, spreading a warm sensation throughout her entire body. 

“I feel the same way.” 

A little noise escaped her throat and she whipped her head to look at the templar, bumping their noses together. Eyes locked, they stared at each other for an endless second that began to burn in her lungs as she forgot how to breathe.

Solona blinked and the conversation ended. Cullen’s lips quirked and with the confidence of a man who knows exactly what he’s doing, lowered his face to hers. A press of skin, lips molding around the other. Where did Cullen end and she begin? It was hard to tell. 

A warm feeling, like a familiar blanket settled over her, a sharp contrasting the burning of before. It was calmer, but deeper. Something that promised years instead of cheap hours. Solona wanted to laugh, to dance, to kiss this man till she ran out of air and then to keep going. She had loved Alistair and lost him, but that didn't mean she couldn’t love again. And Cullen…

_And Cullen._

Lips stilled till they could have been statues, locked against one another. Slowly, so slowly she thought she might dissolve into tiny fragments, Cullen lifted himself up to look down at her again. She had messed up his hair so short curls dangled morosely across his forehead. He looked… Adorable. Solona started laughing and when he made a face, pulled him back down for a kiss that after a second he smiled into. It was… in a word…

Perfect.


	36. An End or a Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummm... warning, remember when I said angst train?

_The darkspawn roamed the Deep Roads, looking for an enemy, someone they could tear into. What was life without a fight?_

_Unable to find anything else, they would strike at each other, shallow blows that wouldn’t slow them down if they decided to fight seriously. An ogre smacked a genlock with the flat of their hand, the smaller creature growling half-stunned before continuing on, racing through the dark._

Where were they going?

_A low sound rumbled through the underground, stilling the darkspawn. She could feel the echoes of the noise in her bones, saying words just beyond her understanding. The other creatures understood, starting off at a run._

They were being summoned.

Solona blinked, eyes adjusting in the dark. Strays of silver light slipped through the cracks around the window, marking the time. The moon was still up, uncorrupted by the sun, which meant she had a little while before the general population of Skyhold would be up.

Sliding out from under the thick covers, Solona bit her lip as her feet settled onto the frigid floor. Carefully she crept across the stone and banged her shins against a chest with a soft thump. Leliana made a small noise and blankets shifted as she moved to a new position. Solona held her breathe, lower leg aching and slowly knelt, hand searching for her boots. Fingers met soft leather and her feet nearly wept as she slid them in the comforting enclosure.

Her cloak was easier to find, slung over a chair. Solona wrapped it around her shoulders and with one last glance at the faint shape of the bed- _what were the chances Leliana was still sleeping?-_ left the room. 

The light from the torches were practically blinding in comparison to the dim room. Solona stared at the floor as her eyes adjusted and then set one foot in front of the other, starting forward in a ritual that had been going on since she had first arrived at Skyhold. 

As expected, the night air greeted her by freezing her throat. Solona pulled her fur-lined cloak tighter and turned down a set of stairs, watching her step. It was hard to know when ice would start forming. She had healed more than one injury from careless residents who hadn’t been paying attention. 

For once on her night walks, Cullen’s tower was dark. He was asleep. The thought did something to her chest, tightening it not unpleasantly. He deserved some rest. 

The kitchens on the other hand were bright and warm, getting ready for the day. A cook shot her a look as she stepped into the room from the outside, something between irritation and empathy and continued shouting the rest of the staff about. In seconds, a redheaded maid came over with a warm scone and a mug of something steaming. Solona smiled gratefully and took a seat to the far side of the kitchen where she couldn’t do any harm. 

Continuing on almost oblivious to her, the staff chatted as they worked, rolling out dough and chopping vegetables. Solona bit into her scone, eyes momentarily closing as the bread melted in her mouth. It was always interesting to spend time down here. Many people forgot about the servants, acting as if the food appeared by magic and the halls cleaned themselves but these people truly did know everything. 

The kitchen maids nearest to her chatted about various romances they had observed or heard about, debating whether or not they work. Had they talked about her like that? Would they have if she wasn’t here?

Solona sipped the spicy drink that sent a jagged heat through her veins to keep her thoughts from wondering what others thought about that interaction. She didn’t want to know. Mostly. 

But what she did need to figure out was what was going on in her darkspawn dreams. Something was clearly happening with the Architect but in the half-remembered fragments she had, it was hard to put together a recognizable picture. 

She shook her head. _Write a letter to Nathaniel and be done with it._ The idea of staying away itched though, rubbing her skin the wrong way. She couldn’t just leave something to be done by others when she was perfectly able to help fix the problem.

But she wasn’t. With the Inquisitor’s Judgement over her head, she doubted she was allowed to leave Skyhold. Not that they could stop her, particularly if she left at night but… that was wrong. She couldn’t just leave her friends… or Cullen.

“I think it’s just a rebound.”

“Really? But they look so cute together.”

Solona paused, mouth already bitten into the scone. _What are they talking about?_

“Lady Tess is just upset that Lord Telgven dumped her in favor for that Orlesian so she picked up the first man who showed her affection.”

The other maid groaned. “He’s going to be heart-broken. It’s clear he’s fallen for her and soon she’ll be over him. Rebounds are just cruel.”

_Rebound?_

Struggling to swallow without choking on the air made with flour and butter, Solona had to ask, “What are you talking about? What’s a rebound?”

The maids seemed as shocked as if one of their carrots started talking to them. The redhead stuttered and her friend practically blanched. “Hero… I… We…”

It had been a while since anyone reacted to her. She hadn't missed it.

“Don't worry,” Solona said, trying to seem as normal as possible. She purposefully took a small drink from her mug as if to say ‘I eat and drink just like you. Nothing to see here.’ “I promise I'm not that interesting. But I am curious about what you were talking about.”

For a long moment, the two just stared at her as if they still couldn't quite believe it. Finally the redhead spoke, slowly to a strange animal. “When a person is no longer in a relationship sometimes they make themselves feel better by getting involved in another relationship. They might think it is real emotion but in reality, it is just grief that pushed them towards it.”

The three-fourths of a scone that was already in her stomach turned to stone and her gut struggled to make sense of what to do with it. “Does that happen often?”

Shrugging, the redhead nudged her friend and they continued on their task. “More than you would think. It happens to the upper crust and us commoners alike. Mortals are mortals.”

Solona set down her mug on the counter next to her and stared at the remaining bit of scone in her palm. It was still a warm brown, soft under her fingers but it no longer was appealing. “Thank you,” she said, voice almost too soft for the busy kitchen maids to hear. Hoping someone would take care of her mug for her- she had no idea what they did with used dishes- she left the kitchen, boots padding across the stone floor. 

Rebounding. _It can't be._ She was oblivious to her feelings a lot of the time, sure, but not that out of touch. _Surely._ Any other option felt unfathomable. 

_Don’t think about it,_ Solona told herself, pacing through the Skyhold’s underbelly. _Maybe it will seem illogical later._ She passed the dusty library with a book about woodcarving set hastily on a table. She just had to be confident in herself. 

Luckily she had practice in ignoring things. Her thoughts were quiet as she worked her way up through Skyhold, winding through dark hallways and passages as her cloak rustled almost hesitantly against the floor. The occasional servant would disturb her serenity but she made it to the balcony above the Great Hall without anyone speaking to her. 

The wind was stronger up here but the air was just as cold. Solona took a deep breath and rested her elbows against the railing, barely able to feel the cold through her nightdress and cloak. If anything, she decided, it felt nice. Heat let things slip by, overridden by sleepy comfort. The numbness brushing her skin made her focus on what was important, not slipping away in to daydreaming.

She couldn't run anymore. Her problems wouldn't just disappear, no matter how much she wished and ignored. If nothing else, that concept had been reinforced in the last year. Just look at her and Cullen; that, at least, had worked out better than anything she would have dared to hope. But she needed to think, without pressure or influence from anyone else. 

Her problems simplified into three core issues. First there was the Judgment. The Inquisitor couldn't push it off for too much longer, especially if the fraction against her was getting more aggressive. She had two options: active or passive. She could accept whatever fate the Inquisitor decided on or she could influence that decision. Fleeing was an option she refused to consider. 

Death was also not a good option. Even if Solona went along with the sentence, the Inquisition would suffer for it. Leliana and Cullen wouldn't never forgive the Inquisitor and this powerful force would be shaken. 

It was the same logic for the Rite of Tranquility, except she didn't know if she was capable of sitting back for a living death. One thing beyond her.

The Inquisitor could put her to work or lock her up. Except that wouldn't solve the security issue if a Venatori came around again. The Deep Roads could be a solution, a logical one too. She could still be useful while being out of the way. _But…_ Solona sighed, clasping her hands in front of her. If she was to live, spending her remaining time away from the sun was not her first choice. Not that her preferences should matter in this situation.

Of course Maxwell could always just forgive her, wiping away her actions. Cold lips twisted into a small smile. That was too naïve, even for her.

A final decision was that the Inquisitor could just banish her so that she would no longer be his problem. It didn't answer a number of the concerns of the opposition but they couldn't stop all Wardens from being a potential threat. She would just become one of many. 

But that would mean leaving Skyhold and the home she had made for herself. She would lose her friends, Garret, John, Nevrah, and all the rest. Cullen… Leliana…they weren't just her friends, they were her family. Could she make it without her family? Again?

Did she deserve any less?

Solona pushed away from the balcony, barely able to feel her fingers or face. She had been outside too long, trying to figure out what the best solution would be for the single problem. That didn't even touch the other two. 

What was she going to do?

Her steps down the stairs felt heavy, noise bouncing off the closed walls. Solona watched the slope of the ceiling follow her to the main level, grey stone similar but different from the rock underneath her. Were her feelings for Cullen really a lie? But she had liked him since before the Blight, hadn't she? That proved… something at least.

She stepped into a new hallway, feet telling the rest of her body where they were going. Her head wasn't giving directions so some other body part had to pick up slack.

And then there was the darkspawn gathering. Nathaniel and the rest of the Wardens could deal with it but their dreams didn't happen as often as hers did now. She knew more the they did and when they acted on her information and went into the Deep Roads, how would she give them updates? 

Her hands clenched and then her right one lifted and knocked, twice, short and decisive. A pause and then it rapped against the door twice more. Her courage failed then and she turned to lean against the wall, covering her eyes with the back of her wrist.

Her throat hurt.

In what could have been minutes or even hours, the door opened and a tall shape looked out, blinking at the site of her. 

“Solona?” The light Free Marcher accented voice said, raspy from sleep. She had woken him. “What’s this all about?”

Putting aside all formal phrases and gestures, Solona turned to the man who had her life in her hands and smiled. “I'm here to negotiate.”

Maxwell Trevelyan didn't move, dark eyes assessing. “Alright,” he said finally. Stepping aside, he pushed open the door to his quarters, a fire flickering somewhere in the space above. “Come on in.”

Solona looked up to the richly decorated room. She could still change her mind, apologize, and leave. This was it. 

“Thank you,” she whispered and walked inside.

oOo

The nobles murmured curiously as the Inquisitor marched out of the hallway leading from the War Room, back straight and eyes facing forward. He didn’t seem to care that everyone was watching him. Perhaps he was used to it. Solona breathed and glanced around, searching for a red overcoat and blond hair. 

Cullen had already been gone when she left the Inquisitor’s room, off to do whatever it was Commanders did in the morning. She had checked the usual places and couldn’t find any sign of him. It would have been better if she talked to him first. But that really wasn’t an option now. 

“Solona Amell, Hero of Ferelden, Vanquisher of the Fifth Blight, Destroyer of Urthemiel, and ex-Warden-Commander,” Maxwell intoned, not looking at her amidst the crowd. 

Solona breathed and stepped forward. The colorful nobles parted for her as she came up to stand before the throne, masked eyes watching her every step. Last time she had done this was almost a year and a half ago. The nobles might have even been the same, it was hard to tell. They all looked alike with their faces covered like that. 

Her heart thumped in her chest, a bit faster than normal but that might just be because she knew what was coming. 

Soldiers, men and women she knew, came up to stand behind her. She listed their names in her head and nodded at them as a few sent worried glances her way. That one had been in the Deep Roads, that one’s best friend she had healed, and that the woman with the dark curls had been an ex-templar. Her shoulders were rigid underneath the armor, but she didn’t even peek at the mage in her care.

Josephine appeared at the Inquisitor’s side. She didn’t look as composed as she usually did, hair creeping out of her bun and eyes red. Had something happened?

“Hero Amell, you are charged with killing your allies while in the Frostback Mountains. At least seven people died by your hands and the entire mission was risked by your actions. Your primary defense is that you were not in control of your actions. Is there anything you have to say for yourself?”

Now the attention of the assembled people were on her. She still hadn’t spotted Cullen yet, but.. _now is the time. Maxwell said I needed to be convincing._

“Only that what happened will haunt me for the rest of my life. They were my friends too, and I had to watch them die at my hands while I could do nothing. There is no punishment you can give that will match that.” It wasn’t finely worded rhetoric designed to win the opinion her listeners, pretty syllables that meant little even to her. She almost wished it was, perhaps then she had a better chance of swaying her audience. 

If not for herself, Leliana and Cullen needed this. 

The Inquisitor leaned forward in his throne, hands nestling against his chin. Dark eyes took her in, dissecting her appearance into smaller and smaller chunks. Solona barely kept a shiver from trailing down her spin. Had he changed his mind? Why else would he be taking so long?

Solona forced herself to breath, lungs straining as the moment stretched. She was dead, or Tranquil, but that was basically the same thing.

“Solona Amell. I have made my decision.” The Inquisitor tilted his weight back, face cold enough to freeze a summer river. “You may not have made the conscious decision to kill those people but I cannot ignore their blood nor the continued threat of your presence. It puts the lives of everyone in Skyhold at risk. And so I revoke your exclusion to the Warden exile.”

Immediately the nobles began tittering, the words striking like physical blows against Solona even though she helped to put them in Maxwell’s mouth. “You will leave Orlais on pain of death. I expect you out of Skyhold within the hour and no longer in Orlais by week’s end. You will stay away from the Inquisition and its operatives. As of six days from now, if you approach an Inquisition base of operations, our people will be on orders to kill you.”

Her mouth was dry by the time he finished talking. _“I’m sorry, but I may need to add extra conditions to keep the templars from being too upset”_ suddenly meaning something. She closed her eyes as voices rumbled around her, threatening to break her composure. _Focus._ Raising her head she curtsied, tugging at her robes as if she was a court noble instead of a homeless mage. Leliana met her gaze, blue eyes questioning. Solona shook her head and doing her best to ignore the whispers, turned sharply to gather her things. Leliana would find Cullen and then they could talk.

One hour… She would have to move fast.

oOo

The door slammed into the wall as Cullen stalked through it, shaking the nearby tapestry. The lady ambassador and the Inquisitor looked up from where they were talking against Josephine's desk. Cullen barely heard their question as his fist connected to the Trevelyan's jaw and the smaller man went flying over the back of the desk. 

Years of training kept Cullen from continuing forward to beat the noble into the floor but it was close. His bare hands flexed at his side.

“Why?” His voice torn out at the man, needing an answer to the question that had pulled him from counting supplies to here before he could fully process the words Leliana’s man had said.

“You should probably ask that before you hit someone,” Maxwell Trevelyan commented, rubbing his cheek as he stood. “It will save a not insignificant amount of pain and embarrassment for both of us.” Cullen ground his teeth, a small corner of his mind amazed that he was still thinking straight. His arms strained and he pushed his knuckles into his upper leg. _Don’t kill him._

“It was Solona’s idea, in case you were wondering.” Cullen’s anger faltered, loosing its momentum. “She came to me early this morning with the idea. She told me to exile her.”

 _What?_ That couldn’t be right. His anger dropped to his gut, needing to lash out at someone for the pain that was slowly building in his chest but unsure of who to turn to. “Why would she do that?” Cullen heard himself ask.

“Because she is a good person,” the Inquisitor said simply, taking back up his position against the desk. “She saw the Inquisition being torn apart because of her and could no longer simply sit by and watch it happen.”

 _She had wanted to leave? She had chosen it?_ Cullen’s thoughts spun, anger falling behind in the whirlwind. But why hadn’t she said anything? There had to be a better solution than this. They could have figured something out. 

“Solona should be in the courtyard getting ready to go,” Josephine said softly, grey eyes kind. “I know she was looking for you earlier.”

Cullen took a deep breath, met the Inquisitor’s eyes for a long moment, then turned on his heel, heading for the door. He had a mage to catch.

oOo

Solona poked the medium-sized bundle, double checking that it had everything in it. She didn’t really care about possessions but there was something comforting about familiarity. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Leliana asked, hood up and arms crossed. Solona ducked her head, digging her toe into the dirt. Her friend had barely said anything since Solona announced her conversation with Maxwell, words leashed and face a cracked mask. She didn't approve but she didn't necessarily disagree. 

“At this point, I don't think it's up to me anymore,” Solona said, picking the loose strands from her plain brown backpack. It was going to happen. She was going to leave. _Where was Cullen?_ Her gut clenched at the possibility of not saying good bye. _What was she even going to say to him?_ “And… You know why I have to.”

Leliana leaned into her. “Yes, but that doesn't mean I agree. You should have at least talked to me. We could have thought of something a little less drastic.”

Solona pushed at the dirt with the toe of her shoe. “Probably. I'm sorry I acted rashly but… It will be for the best.”

The spymaster didn’t seem convinced but Solona shifted, seeing a flash of red. Leliana rolled her eyes. “We’ll talk again before you leave.” The mage swallowed and nodded, wondering how many times she would feel like throwing up today.

Sense of calm as fleeting as a the winter sun, Solona picked up the edge of the robe and trekked towards the edge of the courtyard. The shadow of Skyhold’s walls crept across her, chilling her skin.

The Commander of the Inquisition strode down the steps, eyes searching. They landed on her and Solona barely stopped herself from running in the opposite direction. _Don’t you dare, Amell._ She forced herself to breathe and tried to compose her reasonings that had seemed so sound only minutes ago.

Cullen took bare moments to circle around the yard and get to where she stood near the gate, soldiers parting for him.

Solona could barely look at the templar. “I… uh… good morning.”

“What were you thinking?” Cullen asked, voice cold enough to freeze a reasonably sized person. 

_Reasons. She had them. Good ones too. Or at least, they had been._

“Cullen…” Solona met his gaze and her heart stopped for a second. His face was hard, after seeing him with his soldiers she could almost pretend it was normal but his eyes… Her own burned in response. “I’m so sorry. I know that's not enough and that I should have said something but I didn't think about it till last night and…” She paused her rambling excuses, twisting her hands uselessly. 

“And you decided to just act on it?”

Solona winced, words hitting the wounds Leliana had opened. She deserved every one of them. She had though about it so much she figured it was the best solution possible. Even now she couldn’t think of how she could have solved two out of her three problems any better. “I just couldn’t let anyone get hurt because of me. A…and the darkspawn are on the move, which I can’t ignore and… I needed to do the right thing before I lost my courage.”

“And why didn’t you speak to me before… I thought we were..” Cullen gritted his teeth and Solona barely stopped herself from reaching for him. She blinked furiously, struggling to swallow due to a large lump in her throat. From the beginning, before the beginning actually, she knew that she was going to hurt him and that this wasn’t going to end well.

Knowledge and experience were two different things. 

“I’m so sorry,” Solona repeated in a whisper, heart squeezing painfully. Cullen straightened and shot her a look.

Her final reason turned to ash on the back of her tongue, tasting of despair. “You deserve the best, Cullen. I thought that if I gave you my everything, it would be close enough but…” She choked on her words, tears finally beginning their descent. “I need to make sure my feelings are true, uncorrupted by anything else.”

Hurt ranged into confusion, creating wrinkles on the templar’s face. 

“Hero,” one of Leliana’s people said, approaching cautiously. “You only have a few minutes left.” 

“Thanks for telling me,” Solona gave them a shaky smile and the agent bowed, backing away again. Cullen’s face was only slightly more composed. 

“There is no point in me saying anything,” the templar said. “You’ve made you decision.” Solona opened her mouth to dispute that but only air came out. She had made her choice. She shouldn't try to have it both ways.

They stood in silence for several long heart beats, eyes locked. Finally Solona looked away, too stiff even to cry anymore.

“I know I can’t ask… but…” She wished she knew what she was saying. The thumps in her chest felt like they were counting down the seconds until her friends would be under orders to shoot her down, an avalanche of pain just beyond her view. “Nothing has changed for me. Not really.” She breathed, the truth of that statement, the one she hadn’t realized until she said it, striking her. It didn’t matter if this was a rebound, she still felt the same. Still lov… 

“Hero!”

Gathering her courage into a tight aching ball, Solona slowly reached up to touch Cullen’s face. She needed to feel the heat of his skin and the prickle of stubble one more time, selfishly soothing something inside. 

The templar turned away.

Solona stared up at him as his face moved from her stretching hand, invisible daggers striking. She didn’t deserve any less, he was gracious enough to talk to her, but… _it still hurts._ The templar wasn’t the only casualty of her actions. 

Lips trembling with effort, Solona grabbed her robes tight. The grass swayed beneath them and she couldn’t quite lift her gaze. “I hope you live well, Cullen.”

Before she could make a bigger fool of herself, she fled the courtyard, running up the stairs to the battlements where Leliana and several others waited. The sister’s blue eyes met hers and Solona couldn’t stop from giving the woman a hug. Arms wrapped around her and squeezed the emotion still building in her chest. 

“Thanks for everything, Leliana. You are the best friend I’ve ever had. I’m sorry for… I haven't…”

Leliana’s eyes flicked with warmth. “We will met again. But you should go. I doubt I could sit idly by while people shoot at you.”

Solona breathed and nodded. “I’m ready.”

The spell took only a few moments to cast, rippling through the air and twisting across her skin. Solona closed her eyes and set up the magic loose. Her skin itched and cooled, becoming too large. Human emotion disappeared, leaving only instincts developed through generations and small minded thoughts. She shrank, robe and cloak falling on top of her, becoming night. 

It took less than a second for the darkness to flash away, leaving a redhead staring at her. A friend, her human brain reminded her. The rest of her didn’t care, wings needing to move. Winter was coming and she was too far south for comfort. 

The human whispered something to her, reaching down so Solona could hop on to a slender finger. She turned her head, listening as the woman made some more noise then with a quick tune, she launched herself into the clear blue sky. 

Her bird brain didn’t notice the blond man in the shiny armor turning to watch her go, face creasing with emotion. Instead it focused on updrafts and wind currents, wanting to get to a good altitude before settling in for a long flight. 

She had places to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and I got in a fight and I'm still not sure I won.


	37. 17 Months

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of Trespasser but very few actual spoilers

Dear Pennywhistle,

La! What a beautiful day it is to be alive! I feel so buoyant with the knowledge that the sun is shining down on both of us. When I look at that light in the sky and think of you, I could almost leap for joy, excusing the fact that my skirts would become entangled in my legs. Which reminds me...

... And her dress was such an exquisite lavender, I must say I was rather jealous and am now quite determined to know her seamstress.

Also, at a recent gathering, I encountered a most lovely little maid who caught my attention for her wit and general usefulness. I know we so rarely see each other even if we go to the same events but would you be a dear and keep an eye on her? I am worried about how this cruel world would treat someone so gentle. She is like a sparrow, really. As a token of my affection I have given her a little pink ribbon which the dear thing now wears around her wrist, so she shouldn't be difficult to pick out. You are so kind to one such as I.

There is one thing I must tell you my dear Pennywhistle and that is...

...All my thoughts are with you and your actions. My heart longs till the day we are together again.

Love (what a relief it is to pen that word) love love love,

Ana

oOo

(a wrinkled, barely legible note written on tattered parchment)

Architect.... danger.... Exalted Plains....peace please... Wardens.

oOo

Cullen,

Solona's still alive. I know you have trouble asking but she's in Amaranthine for the time being.

L

oOo

Dear Inquisitor Trevelyan,

I won't bother with pleasantries because I refuse to dance for the man who exiled our order. The Hero of Ferelden and the Wardens at Virgil's Keep have discovered a disturbance in the ranks of darkspawn below Orlais.

If I was to be honest, I would say that I had every intention of waiting till someone called us to help but the Hero insists that I speak with you directly to try to save as many lives as possible. The Wardens need to do our job and I ask that you allow us to travel to the Exalted Plains in order to stop the darkspawn. Our allies warn us that things are only going to get worse.

I hope you understand the seriousness of the situation.

Warden-Commander Nathaniel Howe

(below in scrawling handwriting)

Maxwell, You may not believe Nathaniel but please listen to him. I'll vouch for what he is saying. Wardens are the best at what they do and we are needed in the Exalted Plains. –Solona

P.S. Congratulations on your wedding. I hope you and Josephine are very happy.

oOo

Leliana

Thank you for your note. ~~I appreciate knowing how Solona…the Hero of Ferelden…~~

~~Have you heard anything else?~~

Cullen

oOo

Red

There's something to be said about being too subtle. I'm a simple dwarf with simple needs. You could have said that Trips was coming to visit, "DON'T SHOOT', and have been done with it.

I'll sure you'll be happy to know that Trips is safe and well. Sparkles is going to be at the Exalted Counsel but he's already told me that she can stay at his home if she wishes. I've even heard that Broody is in the area so they can make sure that when she gets into trouble, there is someone to back her up. I'm not getting much out of her on why she left but I do hear rumors. I'd love to hear the details of that mess.

Anyways, thanks for the tip on Haron. It was a big help.

Varric

oOo

(several dark red splotches cover up sections of the letter making it nearly unreadable)

Lelian(ink stain),

You may have heard about the (letter torn) happening in the Imperium right now. I would recommend the Inquisition stepping in if they can. It's getting messy up here.

The Qunari seem.... I’m glad the Inquisition has found its purpose but… Have you heard anything about Sten?....Is Cullen alright?....

Don't worry. Dorian's back and I've also made friends with Fenris, you know, from _The Tale of the Champion_? He is everything Varric wrote and more but I think he's warming up to me.

Thining of you and everyone back at Skyhold,

Solona

oOo

Rivani,

I have no idea if this is even going to get to you but I know you like to hang around Seere at this time of year so here's to hoping.

Broody needs a lift. Let's just say the Imperium isn't too pleased with him at the moment and I would rather our friend stays safe than proud. Kidnap him if you have to, you're good at that kind of thing.

Also, I have a present for Hawke. I hope he likes it.

And stop by Kirkwall again sometime. She won’t admit it, but Aveline would like to see you guys and my bruises have almost faded from last time the hawkelets invaded.

Your lovable dwarf,

Varric

oOo

Cullen,

 ~~I know you're busy but I thought.~~ Hello. ~~Are you okay?~~ I heard about the events at the Exalted Council. ~~I've been thinking about you a lot. Very dramatic.~~

~~There was a man who reminded me of you that I met recently. He has the same smile. I swore I saw you in Wycome the other day.~~

Stay safe,

Solona

oOo

Leliana,

It seems like it is the time for reunions. I don't know if you heard, though perhaps a little bird told you, I ran into Morrigan recently. It was interesting. kind of scary. different. Kieran doesn't really look anything like Alistair but Morrigan hasn't told him too many bad things about his father despite their rivalry. He is very intelligent and I think...

....Did you recognize her when you met her again? I don't mean physically, though that too, but mentally? She's still intelligent and driven but now she's mellowed. Motherhood suits her....

...and so if you see any dragons around Skyhold, check for a pink ribbon before shooting.

All the love,

Solona

oOo

To her Worship the Divine Victoria,

Greetings to the Chantry from Redcliffe and may your...

…I write to you for the singular purpose of requesting your aid. Solona Amell, Hero of Ferelden and a previous member of the Inquisition, has kidnapped my nephew. She came to visit us a week ago and requested Connor's aid for an unnamed project. Isolde and I refused of course but several days later we woke to find both her and Connor gone. Since this involves a member of the Inquisition which is now your honor guard, we ask that you help us capture the woman who is flaunting her exile. One of the servants believes that they have gone West.....

Please help us find him. For the continuing of peace in Redcliffe and for the serenity of my mind.

As always, I and mine are your faithful servants,

Arl Teagan of Redcliffe

oOo

My lovely Nightingale,

I found a little grey sparrow. Don't worry, I'll be keeping her safe. You know how she likes to get into trouble.

Zev

oOo

Solona couldn't remember the last time her throat didn't feel like it was going to crack from lack of moisture. She wiped the sweat off her forehead as she and her party climbed to the top of a dune, trying to ignore the grit that rubbed against her skin. The silent hills of sand just kept going on and on as far as she could see into the wavering distance. _Did the Approach ever end?_ Her muscles ached, coarse sand having gotten into every single bit of skin, and she and Connor had been running on empty for the last week, ever since that fight with the bandits at the edge of the Waste.

She didn't like being without the reassuring mana just behind her skin. There was something unsettling about it.

"So you shared rooms with female mages for weeks on end and you didn't even kiss them?" Zevran asked, grin audible in his voice.

"By the Stone," Gever muttered, trying not to fall as they slid down the dune. "Doesn't he ever shut up?"

Connor sighed from behind them, answering both of the questions in a single word. "No."

The assassin continued on as if they weren’t talking about him. "Well, there is no problem with that... did you kiss any of the male mages? Should I be concerned about my virtue?"

As Connor spluttered, Solona turned and immediately felt the sun hit her burnt face without remorse. "Zev, would you tell us the story about your mission in Starkhaven again."

The assassin raised an eyebrow, flashed her a sharp grin, and with elaborate hand gestures began his tale. She had no idea how he still had energy after days out here, but she was glad he did. When Zevran failed, then she would begin to worry about their chances of getting this desert alive. As it was, if they didn't find another oasis soon, things were going to get difficult.

This is why the Wardens existed. To prevent this.

Solona took a deep, dry breathe and dug into the next dune, burning her hands when she tripped and braced herself against the searing sand. The Second Blight had destroyed this land, leaving nothing but fragments of life left. Ferelden could have had the same fate, sometimes it didn't feel like it was much more than luck which kept her country from turning into another Western Approach.

"Is that what we're looking for?" Connor's voice jarred her thoughts. Gever grabbed the back of her thin sun-block of a cloak as she nearly fell, whirling around to where the younger mage pointed off at a slight angle to the direction that they were currently walking. In the distance, shimmering with heat waves, a dark shape ghosted on the horizon.

"Are you sure that it's not just a cloud?" Gever grumbled.

"You think we'd be lucky enough to have a cloud?" Zevran joked, squinting at the blur.

"No, you're right. I was expecting to die out here without seeing a single cloud in this whole--" Solona's ears burned as Gever spouted some colorful phrasing. Or maybe they were already burnt. It was hard to tell how much her hat was helping.

"Are you going to be alright?" Connor asked softly, coming to stand next to his kind-of relative. The noble-turned-mage was the same red as she, pale Circle skin having failed in the face of a desert sun. She nodded, ignoring the slight wavering the landscape did with the motion. Her cousin’s gaze didn't leave her and so she forced her legs to start moving again, gravity a dangerous force.

The distance crept by and with every step Solona promised herself that she would never go into another desert. She would go somewhere wet. Maybe a swamp. Or the ocean. She could go swimming. That was a skill that was getting rusty.

Luckily, the grey blur was indeed a non-natural structure, sticking out of the sand like a raised scar. Solona could feel her face changing as they approached, tightening and hardening. Her eyes blurred for a dangerous second then steadied as Zevran came up to walk beside her, humming one of Leliana's favorite songs. She could do this.

"I'm sure the Wardens have some source of water in here," Connor said, peering into the shadows of the fortress as if the demons of Adament were still creeping around. Solona held out her hand and her cousin took it. Together they channeled a spell, weaving invisible strands together to test the strength of the Fade. They pushed and the Veil held. Breathing out the mages let go and Solona slipped a smile on for Zevran and Gever.

"We're good. There is no sign of life or demons here."

"I really don't think those dream creatures are as scary as you surfacers seem to think," Gever muttered. "They can't be worse than an ogre with a toothache."

"They are worse than a dwarf with an itchy beard," the Antivan Crow commented, hand still resting on his dagger. Even with her reassurance, he hadn’t relaxed, golden eyes seeming to watch everything.

Gever muttered something she didn’t want to hear and they walked through the crumbled remains of a large wooden gate. This must have been where the Inquisition entered. Perhaps Alistair had even walked this same path.

“How about we split up?” she suggested, voice coming out surprisingly normal. “I need to… check something out and there are bound to be supplies around here somewhere. We can meet back up here in an hour or so.”

“Sure,” the carta dwarf grumbled, shifting his bag. “Let’s part ways in a creepy fortress. That sounds like an excellent idea.”

“If you want, I can hold your hand.” Zevran grinned as Gever’s face shifted in disgust. “Why do I even bother? You surfacers are all crazy, your sense must have fallen into the sky.” He didn’t even look back, stalking off to climb a set of stairs. For complaining so much about leaving the stone below, the dwarf seemed to like heights an awful lot.

Connor shook his head. “I’ll see what I can find. The Maker only knows what will happen if we have to eat dried jerky one more night.” Then he took wandered off, staff striking the ground rhythmically so that soon it was only her and the assassin left.

Picking a direction, Solona started walked. The elf followed, whistling softly. They crossed a courtyard and wandered around a massive structure, only to find themselves at a dead end. Solona turned to go head towards a staircase, hands spasming slightly against her robes.

“You don’t need to come with me, you know,” she whispered as they climbed, reaching the top of the flight and presenting her with a better picture on the structure of the fortress. Inspired, she followed a walkway around the edge, searching for something she had never seen. Varric had been very descriptive however, so she was relatively confident that she could find it.

“I know,” Zevran said simply, grabbing her hand to help her over a pile of rubble. Her foot snagged on something on the way back down and she fell. Strong arms grabbed her, hoisting her back onto her own two legs. “But someone needs to keep an eye on you.”

Cheeks burning a bit at that, Solona ducked below a beam and forced herself to keep moving. Something white poked out of some stone but she didn’t look at it, stomach twisting. A distraction. That’s what she needed.

“Are you ever going to visit Leliana again?”

The elf laughed, “Don’t think I can’t see what you are doing. But I accept. Our dear Chantry sister is plotting her retirement and when she goes, I will join her. No matter where she is.”

Despite the lazy grin on his face, Zevran’s gaze was diamond-hard. Solona slowed to look at her friend. “I wish the two of you every happiness. No one deserves it more.” The assassin just winked and glancing around announced that she could take the rest by herself.

“I have no desire to do anymore climbing which you seem so keen on.” With that, he settled down in the shadow of a crumbling wall, closing his eyes. For all the world, he looked like an elf simply taking a break in the shade. Solona smiled slowly and after a second, continued on her way.

She took a detour, going down instead of up. Luckily for her, this wall had been broken so she was able to get to the space she wanted, slowing to a stand-still.

Lumps of broken fortress spread out around her, like mountains against the sand. Above her a bridge to nowhere ended in a ragged edge, teeth of some great beast. The Fade was weak here, previously broken and then repaired. _This is the spot then._

Her knees thumped against the dirt as her heart began to beat dully in her chest. It hurt, a surprisingly sharp pain considering. Alistair had been dead for nearly two and a half years yet the thought of him still managed to place thorns beneath her skin.

“Oh Alistair… How’s it going up there?” Solona didn’t realize she was talking until she heard a voice, her voice. “I hope you’re doing well and are happy. I…” Her hands clutched at the sand, letting it trickle through her fingers.

“I still miss you. A lot. A day doesn’t go by that I don’t wish you were here. What I would give to just see your face again… to hear your laugh.”

Wasted water ran down her cheeks and she could barely understand her own words anymore. “You were my first, Alistair. My love… It is unfair for me to think it but why did you leave me? Why did you… have to be the hero?”

She choked and for several seconds couldn’t continue her conversation with a dead man. “You were always my hero. I wish… no, I know I can’t think like that. We discussed it. Yes, I remember that. Not very well and I am not entirely convinced it wasn’t just some death-driven hallucination but… thank you. And…” Her hand traced the tangles of her hair, feel the sand engrained into her scalp.

“If you don’t know already, I found someone. They don’t make me laugh like you did, but they make me feel safe, confident, like I can do anything. We… understand each without talking and…well, it’s probably over now but I thought you should know. I will always love you, no matter how much time passes.”

“Alistair… I…” The tears that had stilled began to flow again and Solona leaned forward to settle her head against the large jagged stone. Her face, eyes, chest, skin… everything just hurt so much. It made it hard to think straight. Solona took a deep breath before pulling words from her Circle days out in a prayer.

“Draw your last breath, my love. Cross the Veil and the Fade and all the stars in the sky. Rest at the Maker's right hand.” She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on the cool sensation on her skin. Her breathing was ragged, cutting into her airways as she struggled to compose herself.

_Why? No one was here to see._

And so, giving up all pretenses of control, Solona cried. She cried until her throat went raw and her eyes swelled and still she managed a few more sobs. Finally, there was no more emotion left to give. A wave of exhaustion hit her and she swayed from her sitting position.

_There is nothing else to it then._

Not moving, Solona pulled what little mana she had into her hands, casting it into the most instinctive of spells. White lightning singed her skin, more like a barely controled animal than the familiar kiss of energy she was used to. Compacting the element she straightened, nearly falling for her effort. Bracing her left hand against the large stone, she lowered the sparking right to the surface, directing the lightning down into the remnant of fortress. Bits of rock flew, some of them hitting her and drawing blood.

Her hand seemed to have a life on her own, drawing more mana than she thought she had left into the spell. Solona began to shake as it became hard to breathe, to think but her fingers didn’t falter, continuing to trace their path. Finally they stopped and the sparks flicked out. The edges of her vision fuzzed, black mists swirling just beyond sight, but she had accomplished her goal. Straight lines and curves almost seemed to glow from where she had carved them into the large rock.

Her timeframe for meeting with the others had to be just about done. Not that she would be able to make it in her current condition. She had used too much magic.

“It’s certainly distinctive, no?” If Solona hadn’t known that Antivan accent as well as she did, her heart might have just given up at that point. As it was, she just peeked at the elf who was staring at the white marks. “It is a fitting tribute,” Zevran decided finally. “Alistair would have like it. But we really should be going. Gever won’t wait forever and he found the water supply so it’s best we don’t get left behind.”

He was trying to distract her. Solona knew this but it worked none the less. With his help, she got back to her feet, putting more weight than she would like onto her friend. “Let’s get going then.”

The assassin hummed. “But where to now?”

Solona took a breath and glanced at the horizon, eyes sore. There was one last thing that she had to do. “To Weisshaupt. I need to talk to the Grey Wardens.”

oOo

(Carving found at the ruins of Adament)

For all those Wardens who died so that others could live.

You will not be forgotten.

oOo

You Gracious Divine Victoria,

I hope this is not being too forward but Varric insists that you would approve. I may not have parted the Inquisition on the best of terms but ~~I can help with a proble… The Wardens are a critical solution for world peace..~~ I have a proposition for you.

Sincerely,

Solona Amell, Hero of Ferelden

oOo

The cool mountain air settled against Solona’s skin like an old friend, caresses raising goose bumps. She breathed it in, reveling in the feeling. She was a Ferelden, there was no other excuse to give. The north was just too warm for her liking. How could they appreciate the heat if they had nothing to compare it to?

Ahead of her, Skyhold rose like a beacon, Chantry flags flapping in the wind. There hadn’t been as many travelers on the path as she had expected, which was a relief in some ways. That last thing she wanted was more attention.

The ancient fortress crept up on her, looming like some kind of sentiel. Solona’s eyes traced the stone, feeling the magic that still laced them move sluggishly along. Her feet kept going even as her eyes closed, enjoying the sensation. Her chest heated slightly when opening her eyes revealed an unchanged sight.

She was home again.

Voices raised as she approached and for the first time in several weeks, Solona became self-conscious. Her hair and skin were a mess, the leather dress she had bought from an old farm woman was a bit too tight, and the last time she had a bath was… _Weisshaupt?_

No one stopped her from passing through the gate and she cracked a smile as a familiar face came into view. Garret strode up to her, grinning.

“Sol… I mean Hero. I didn’t think we’d ever see you again.”

“I didn’t think I would be back either,” Solona admitted, taking in the changes Skyhold had been through in the last seventeen months. There were less people milling about in the courtyard, only one or two merchants instead of whole caravans. Skyhold was no longer the center of a fate-altering organization. Now it was merely a stop. “How is everything?”

Garret shrugged. “Fine. Many of us went home after the Exalted Council but quite a few stayed. I know I couldn’t go back to being a tailor after everything that has happened.” His smile grew. “I’m glad to see you’re still alive. We were worried about you for a while there.”

Solona was about to respond when something caught her gaze, sealing her throat. A tall blond man in armor stared down at her from the battlements, arms crossed over his chest. Slowly he turned toward the stairs, beginning the descent to the courtyard.

Following her gaze, Garret frowned. He glanced back at her and then, without a word, withdrew. Solona fiddled with her fingers and then went to meet the templar.

He hadn’t changed. For the life for her, she couldn’t figure out if that was a good thing or not.

Brown eyes exaimed her body, slowing on the differences and the self-consciousness that had faded came back in full force. She didn’t want him to see her like this. Every new scar burned on her skin, revealing her failure. Mages, especially ones who knew more than the basics of healing magic, shouldn’t have scars. She traced the faint line that crossed the edge of her forehead and ended up pushing some loose hair behind her ear. The templar tracked the movement, frown deepening.

“Hel…hello.” Her voice cracked, noting that they were gathering an audience. The hand that had been at her head clenched idly at her dress, ruining any chance at appearing composed. “It’s… been a while.”

“That it has,” Cullen replied. Her heart twisted at his familiar voice and she blinked furiously, refusing to cry. “How… have you been?”

“Fine. I was doing Warden business mostly… Hawke says hello by the way.”

Cullen snorted, a chick falling from his stone-like armor. “Was that his only message?” Solona couldn't help the slight wince but Cullen just slowly shook his head. “I'm glad he’s doing well at least. Someone deserves to get at least some happiness from Kirkwall.”

Tracing the pattern of rivets down her left arm, Solona ignored the eyes that followed the motion and tried to focus on the situation at hand. Cullen was having a civilized conversation with her. That meant he didn’t hate her, right? No matter what he decided, there was no doubt she had ruined whatever it was they had.

Solona breathed out and reminding herself that she had faced down her Warden superiors and surely this couldn’t be as bad as that, looked up. “You should too,” a voice that sounded remarkably like a rusty version of her own whispered.

Cullen’s eyes flickered, shifting from pain to warmth to confusion to doubling back to pain, finally meeting her own. Old injuries that should have healed ached and she forced her hand to remain where it had dropped to her side. She continued talking, more to distract herself than anything else. “I hear a lot has changed around here. Is everything… going alright?”

“More or less.” The templar relaxed a little more at the familiar topic, shoulders losing some of their tension. “Our numbers have lessened but we are still getting a steady stream of recruits.” He paused. “Rafon joined about eight months ago."

“Rafon? From the Hinterlands?” Solona couldn’t help looking around, searching for the young man she dared to claim as a friend. She didn't see him, but that didn't mean that he wasn't around.

“Yes. Apparently he served in the Redcliffe guard for a year before coming to us. He’s really made an impression with some of the officers.”

Solona smiled. “I'm happy to hear it. And… how are you?”

This time it was Cullen who looked away, hand reaching for his neck. “I am… well.”

“Good.” They paused awkwardly. Solona shuffled and then sighed.

“Cullen, I—“

“You should know—“

She laughed and Cullen’s low voice followed, awkward but genuine. “You first,” Solona said, glad that _perhaps_ she still had her friend.

The templar frowned, cheeks tinged pink as he looked to the side. Was he… “I just wanted to say that… I’m glad you’re back.”

Solona smiled, relief making the expression real. “As am I.”

Cullen’s lips turned but before he could say anything, a large grey blur ran to his side, nearly knocking Solona over. She blinked as the Commander bent down to pet the mabari. “You have a dog?”

“Yes, I found him, or he found me, in the Winter Palace. Since his old owner abandoned him, I decided to bring him back to Skyhold.”

Solona offered her hand to the mabari and after a quick sniff, he licked it, barking happily.

The templar laughed. “I think he recognizes another Ferelden.”

Nostalgia twisting at the memory of her own mabari, Archon, Solona smiled and crouched down to help Cullen in scratching the dog’s belly. “He seems like a good boy.”

“Oh he is. He still needs some work at dodging fireballs but besides that….” Cullen said, only several worn stones of awkwardness remaining. The dog had probably bowled over the rest.

“Fireballs?” Solona laughed. “How are you teaching him that?”

Cullen found a particularly good spot on the dog’s belly and its powerful back leg began to move. “Just with a ball for now. He insists on catching it but I'm sure it'll work eventually.”

The image of the templar playing fetch was too much. “Mind if I see the training?” Solona asked. She had nowhere to be and this… This felt right.

“Of course not,” Cullen said, standing. “The morning rotation should be complete so there will be room for it.”

Mabari running in front of them, they headed towards the training yard, walking side by side. Solona peeked at the Commander and met warm brown eyes glancing over at her. She blushed, turning her gaze instead at her feet.

“Will you be staying this time?” Cullen asked, voice soft with just traces of a long-standing pain flickering through it.

Solona’s blush deepened in color as shame added new shades to her cheeks. She buried her hands in the folds of the too-big dress. “Yes... If that’s alright. I… I wouldn't want to make things… awkward between us.”

Cullen faced forward, tracking the mabari as the dog raced around recruits, tripping one of them. “I… would like having… you around again.”

The hesitant honesty slid through her defenses and covering a blush by rubbing at her nose, Solona tried to focus on her breathing. If this continued for too much longer, her hope was going to hurt when it came crashing down.

“Cullen… I know I said it before, but I’m sorry for what happened. It could have been handled better and… even if it takes years, I hope I can earn your forgiveness.”

The mabari bounded up with a wooded ball in his powerful jaws, holding the toy carefully so that he wouldn’t reduce it to splinters. Cullen took it from between the dog’s teeth and considered the object carefully before stretching his arm back and throwing the ball across the open courtyard. Tearing dirt, the mabari charged off, barking.

“There is nothing to forgive.”

Solona gave up all pretense of watching the dog. “What?”

Cullen shifted, itching at his elbow. “I did some thinking while you were gone and…” A wet sphere moved from mouth to hand to air. “I understand why you did it. I can’t agree with the how but… I still understand. You had a lot riding on you that I couldn’t help with and something things are more important.”

Thousands of thoughts rushed through Solona’s minds, the result of countless steps that had led her to this point. “I… How can you forgive me so easily?” Her voice shook, hope and fear tangling into a mess that had her gripping her arms to keep herself from falling apart.

“It wasn’t easy.” The ball soared through the air, bouncing across the dirt. “And even when I heard you were coming back, I didn’t think I would be able to but...” Brown eyes pinned her, trapping her to the ground with a raw intensity. “When I saw you walking in… I couldn’t be angry. Not at you.”

Almost too slowly to track, a large hard hand crept up to hover next to her face, fingers flickering over the space above her scar. “Solona, I don’t know if I have the right to ask but if you are willing… I would like to try again.”

Maybe she hadn’t made it back to Skyhold. Perhaps she was actually lying in a ditch somewhere, buried in snow because this couldn’t be happening. _There was no way that Cullen… that Cullen…_

If she was in the Fade that meant that Cullen had to be some sort of demon. She couldn’t hurt him…it, not while it wore that face but but perhaps if she just walked away it would reveal itself and then she wouldn’t feel as bad when she had to fight it.

“Solona?” Cullen’s hand had lowered slightly, eyes becoming guarded.

He thought she didn’t care about him.

In less time than it took the templar to blink, Solona threw herself around him, face mashed painfully against his metal plate and arms locked around his waist. It struck her how much smaller she was than him, how much weaker. She didn't have a lot she could offer him, especially as a Warden but….

“I would like that.” Solona said, looking up to meet brown eyes. “I would like that a lot.”


	38. Epilogue: An Amell in Skyhold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! I have a number of excuses but you probably don't want to hear those. Here is the final(?) chapter of this tale where I try to make the title of the work mean something.

Solona felt the bed shift under her, gravity pulling towards the edge and she rolled with it, entangling her legs in blankets as she flipped. Her arm wrapped around a warm waist and she buried her face into a hard hip, curling the rest of her body around the figure.

“No.”

The person she was trying to stop laughed, a low delicious sound that rumbled over her sleep-soaked head like molasses. “I can’t stay in bed all day,” Cullen said as his hand found hers, stroking the skin with callused fingers. 

“It doesn’t have to be all day,” Solona mumbled into his leg, still barely awake. “Just a bit longer.”

“I have a meeting with Rylen,” Cullen told her, gently untangling her grip. 

“Rylen will be alright for a while,” the mage reasoned. Cullen just laughed again and stood, sudden lack of heat making Solona curl up like a startled insect. Forcing back lead weights on her eyes, she blinked. The early morning sunlight streaming through the holes in the ceiling cast a golden light on everything, making it hard to see clearly. 

Several paces away, the blond templar already had his pants on and was slipping on a simple leather shirt to wear beneath his armor. Her heart skipped a beat as he stretched, unconsciously showing off his broad shoulders. She pushed herself up onto her elbow and carefully slid the warm blankets aside, exposing skin to the chill morning air.

“Cullen,” Solona said, low voice carrying across the empty room. The man looked up and Solona raised her leg, robe slipping to reveal pale skin. Cullen’s hands fumbled on a buckle, eyes darkening slightly. “Are you sure you don’t want to come back—“ 

Her seduction was interrupted by a large yawn that she tried to hide but whatever non-magical spell she had been casting already failed. Cullen just smiled crookedly. “Go back to sleep, love. Dagna will need all your energy.”

Solona just nodded, eyes closing to slits as she lay back down. He was right. Of course he was. The arcanist had enough enthusiasm for three people twice her size. 

Sinking into the mattress, she listened to the quiet sounds of Cullen getting ready. Scratch, clip, thump. She rubbed her nose into the blankets, breathing in his scent. Sleep tantalized her, offering a comforting abyss. She didn’t have to be awake for a while…

“Cullen!” Solona shot up, swaying as the corners of her vision fuzzed. 

The templar paused from taking the first step down the ladder. “Yes?”

Face flushing slightly, Solona looked away. “Are… are we still having lunch together?”

The scar on Cullen’s lip flexed as he smiled, climbing back up to walk over to her, large form casting a grey shadow over their bed. He bent down to a crouch so they were nearly at eye level. “Of course,” he whispered. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to hers and for an endless second, Solona’s heart forgot how to beat. “I am looking forward to it.”

“Alright,” Solona agreed, unable to prevent the happiness from bubbling up onto her face with a wide smile. Cullen kissed the top of her head and then he turned back to the ladder, body disappearing from view. Lazily, Solona snuggled back into the warmth he had left, allowing herself to drop into a doze. 

Sometime later, the sunlight faded to a pale yellow and Solona survived the climb down into an empty office. She nodded at a guard outside the door and set out, looping around the perimeter of Skyhold in an attempt to wake up. By the time she reached the main building, her mind was clear, remnants of sleep tossed off the edge of the battlements like so much waste. 

The Great Hall was clear, only a few soldiers and dignitaries moving about. Symbols of the Chantry were prominent, white Andrastian statues glaring down at those below them. Solona ignored the stone stares and ducked into the Undercroft.

Dagna was nowhere to be seen.

Solona paused at the opening, scanning the cave. The dwarf wasn’t stealthy enough to just disappear and this was the time they usually met at. 

Instead of wondering about it, she went down to the station they had set up. While they had multiple projects they were working on together, this one was their main focus. A large wooden table covered in Dagna’s many tools and staff for Solona and at the very center, the result of all their efforts, a black medallion attached to a leather cord.

Taking a deep breath, Solona lifted her hand and slowly lowered it over the metal circle. Invisible flames tickled her palm, teasing her with phantom heat. The sensation traveled up her wrist and it took everything she had not to pull away as tendrils of fire crept through tissue towards her chest. It _twisted_ within her, almost like living thing.

“Why are you humming?”

Solona jumped, moving her hand away. Dagna tilted her head. When had she gotten here? 

“That was kind of creepy, you know? I’ve never heard that tune before. Where is it from?”

Licking her lips, Solona asked, “I was humming?” 

The dwarf nodded, reaching to take the medallion. Solona almost grabbed her wrist but stopped herself just in time. 

“Hmmm. Were you casting a spell?” Dagna turned the thin metal circle in her hands, tracing the runes they had so carefully put there. 

“No,” Solona said, probably too quickly. The dwarf just hummed an eerie tune that had the hairs on the back of the mage’s neck standing on end and then smiled. “Well, what do you say we get to work? The Wardens aren’t going to save themselves.”

Her smile felt stiff when she slipped it on. “Let’s do it.”

The morning passed quickly. Solona rested her head against the wall she had been sitting against, closing her eyes for a brief second. Their work was valuable and quite possibly the only thing that was going to keep her order from being torn apart from both inside and outside forces. And yet… the part of her that was raised in under Chantry supervision cringed at their work. It was so close to blood magic, many might say it was. 

_She was not a malificarum,_ Solona told herself firmly. But still the thought nagged at her conscious. Cullen had been furious when he first found out what she was doing. He seemed more resigned now but neither of them mentioned it. She either tried to solve the problem or the Wardens would be up to manipulation.

And just because she _understood_ blood magic didn’t mean that she _practiced_ it. The thin line between the two was nearly impossible to balance, especially when Dagna asked for help with the runes. 

“What do you say we work on Skyhold’s magic after lunch?” Solona asked, forcing herself to stand despite her mental exhaustion. Her back creaked and Dagna grinned at her. 

“That sounds great! I could use a bit of a divergence. This feels like a puzzle we just need to put together and then we can solve everything. If only the pieces weren’t circles and squares…” The dwarf frowned slightly and Solona could almost see her friend’s eyes glaze over. “The Venatori can take control of those who have been tainted by the Blight. But since lyrium is the blood of a Titan, which can be tainted, does that mean red templars are kind of like Wardens? They both go crazy and so….”

Solona let her ramble off. If she had any revelations, the dwarf would let her know. Last time she convinced one of the soldiers to wake her up. 

That particular soldier wouldn’t be doing it again, but there wasn’t a doubt Dagna could get someone else to find her. 

“Don’t forget to eat!” Solona called as she left. A hand waved her off and Solona smiled, walking towards Cullen’s office. The breeze felt wonderful after being trapped mostly indoors for most of the day, teasing her hair and ruffling the end of her robe. A distant part of her wanted to grow feathers and go for a quick flight but she stayed grounded. Cullen was probably waiting. 

Throwing open the door, she entered the Commander’s office. A puff of wind tried to sneak in behind her, scattering papers, but she shoved the wooden barrier between them, preventing the elements from playing with Cullen’s materials anymore. He was kind of particular about where everything went. 

Even if he wasn’t here right now.

The work of a Commander was never done, Solona thought, going to to pick up the papers the wind had managed to snatch. Reports, reports, a note from Rylen, and… Solona blinked at a particular document that was addressed to her.

 _Oh Cullen… Mia is going to kill you._ Solona picked up the letter and read the words from Cullen’s sister before ending on the date. Cullen hadn't mentioned anything so the letter couldn't have been here that long. It must have gotten lost on the road.

Solona sighed and grabbed a fresh sheet of parchment, smoothing it on the desk before grabbing a pot of ink. Ever since she had started corresponding with Mia, they had kept up a steady stream of letters. Hopefully Mia didn't think anything bad had happened as a result.

_Dearest Mia,_

_Cullen, in case you were wondering, is fine. As you can imagine, he has once again allowed his work to distract him. I hope you don’t mind if I respond for him again. Perhaps this time I can get more than couple lines from him at the end..._

_...Thank you for the invitation to visit you. Cullen has been mentioning how much he would like to see you again. There are just a few more things he needs to work out in Skyhold until then….._

….

_All my best to you and the rest of the Rutherfords._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Solona Amell_

Stomach grumbling, Solona stretched and peeked out the window behind her. More time had passed and still nothing from Cullen. Her lips turned down. Usually if he was going to be late he would at least send a message. 

Solona shook the sense of foreboding away and got to her feet. Skyhold wasn’t that big. Someone had to know where the Commander was.

She started by walking the battlements, looking down at the courtyard for any sign of him. Nothing. Next she skipped down some steps to the tavern in the hopes that there had been a mix up and they were supposed to meet here. The bartender gave her a nod but only a few patrons filled the room. Solona craned her head to stare at the other levels, wondering at the chances. 

“Looking for something, Solona?” She jumped, turning to take in dark hair and questioning eyes. 

“Rafon, where did you come from?” The man smiled. “Do you mean within the last week or as of several minutes ago?” His smile stretched larger as she blinked at him, uncertain on whether or not to go along with his joke. “I’ve been back at Skyhold since yesterday evening and was just finishing my briefing with the Commander before I ran into you.”

“Where was he?”

“In the old War Room…” Rafon paused as Solona started off towards the Grand Hall, trailing behind the mage like some sort of honor guard. “Did you have a meeting with him?”

“We were supposed to have lunch,” Solona admitted, trying to keep her balance on the steep steps. No one else seemed to be bothered by it but they always threatened to send her tumbling back down them if she stopped paying attention. 

With Rafon's amused gaze on her, Solona managed to climb the final steps to the main hall without incident. Level once more, she took a deep breath and started into the building.

The hall was nearly empty, only a few soldiers and tourists walking through the large room. Echoes of their movements filled the space, reminding Solona of the countless times she had been here before. After a second, her feet began to move, setting the path towards the side hallway. 

The worn door swung open and she entered Josephine’s old office, dusty from disuse. Hunched over the desk, a figure turned, much too slender to be Cullen. Dark hair fell over a tanned forehead and darker eyes dissected her.

Solona dipped into a half curtsey and behind her Rafon saluted. “I didn’t know you were back.”

The man they used to call Inquisitor pursed his lips in an almost smile. “No one was supposed to know. I am retired after all.”

Keeping her eyes firmly away from the empty sleeve dangling from Maxwell’s left shoulder, Solona managed a smile of her own.

“I can’t believe that. How is the Montilyet’s trading going?”

“Excellent. Josie is amazing. Give her a few more years and she’ll have control of at least a…” The man paused, almost embarrassed. “She sends her greetings.”

“Please return my own.” Her flash of teeth was more natural this time. “Have you seen Cullen?”

A black eyebrow quirked. “You think I can keep track of him after being gone for months? Where was he supposed to be?”

Now it was Solona’s turn to flush. “I’m… not quite sure. I thought we were meeting in his office but he hasn’t shown up yet and he’s rarely late so it must be elsewhere.”

The Trevelyan just stared at her, amused and Solona took a step back, bumping into Rafon. “Oh, Maxwell, have you met Rafon? Originally from the Hinterlands and the Redcliffe guard. Rafon, this is Maxwell Trevelyan,Herald of Andraste, Inquisitor of the second Inquisition, and most recently, a merchant of Antiva.” The youth stared at the legend in front of him, back stiff as he tried not to reveal his excitement. 

“Thank you for serving in the Divine’s guard,” the noble said formally. 

Rafon came to himself. “Of… Of course. It is my honor, s..ser. If there is ever anything you need, please don’t hesitate to—“

“What are you doing now?”

“Ss… ser?”

“I am in need of a trustworthy assistant with two capable hands for a few tasks while I’m here. Would you be willing to help?”

“Anything,” Rafon said, awe turning into steel sincerity. Solona just hoped the previous Inquisitor knew what he was doing. The young were so easy to fracture when you held their ideals in your hand. She met the dark gaze and he nodded once. He would use her friend, but he would keep him safe. 

She couldn’t expect a better offer. 

“It was nice to see you again, Maxwell. Hopefully we’ll run into each other before you leave. Rafon, take care.”

Throughly distracted the man from the Hinterlands just waved. Solona shook her head and continued to the old War Room. If Maxwell hadn’t seen Cullen he probably wasn’t still there but it didn’t hurt to check. 

The room was even dustier than Josephine’s office, a layer of grey covering the map of the world. No one was watching over Thedas anymore. Or at least not from Skyhold. Solona frowned then forced herself to move on. She had other things to worry about. 

The two men were still chatting when Solona walked back through, Rafon still holding himself awkwardly straight. Solona smiled and left the hallway of a room, instead turning to the garden. She hadn’t seen him here earlier but based on what Rafon had said, Cullen was in the War Room at the time. 

It was like they were playing a game.

Solona breathed in the garden smells and let it all out in a rush. It wasn’t that important for them to have lunch together but she had been looking forward to it. Dagna was probably waiting by now.

“There you are!” Her smile blossomed before she had fully turned around. Cullen walked towards her, armor glinting in the sun. “Did you and Dagna get wrapped up in your experiments?”

 _He thought…_ Solona laughed and ran the final few steps to wrap her arms around his neck, his hands automatically circling her waist. “I thought we were meeting in your office. Rafon said you were in the War Room and I just happened to come here next.”

Cullen smiled and bent down to kiss her. Solona’s thoughts spluttered out as her heart rode a wave of heat. The ex-templar pulled away slightly, breath warming her lips. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.” Taking her hand in his own, he tugged her to where two concealed plates waited on a blanket-covered chess board. 

“You…” Solona blushed as the man holding her hand looked at her expectantly. He had taken the time to set this up. That's where he had been. “You didn’t have to do that.”

For a response, Cullen paused and wrapped her in a tight hug. “Of course I did,” he whispered into her ear. She managed to claim another kiss before they sat down for lunch, Cullen looking slightly embarrassed as fellow garden-enjoyers smirked at them. Solona’s cheeks burned as well but she was too happy to really care. 

The food was nothing fancy, just some fried fish with vegetables, fresh bread, and a little cake to the side. But compared to what Solona usually ate, it might as well been a restaurant in Orlais. She smiled into her bite of cake, needing a taste before she began the rest of the meal. 

“Is this part of the perks of command?” Solona teased, closing her eyes as the sugar burst on her tongue. 

“One of them,” Cullen said quietly, lips twitching ever so slightly. Keeping her world in darkness for just a moment longer, Solona couldn't help the warmth that flickered through her body, starting in her chest and working its way downwards. She glanced up through her lashes and darted her tongue out to catch a crumb that had caught her upper lip. 

The man who had once been a templar tracked the moment then slowly leaned back. Solona brushed a lock of hair that had fallen from her bun out of her face. She didn't know why it made her so happy to tease Cullen. Perhaps it had something to know that he thought she was desirable. That… that was something she would never grow tired of.

To distract herself from the hot ache that had her clenching her legs together, Solona said, “Mia was asking when you thought you’d be visiting them again. I told her there is still a lot to do, but it's up to you.”

Cullen prodded his vegetables with his bread, spreading the buttery sauce. His brows knit together, wrinkles building on his forehead. Solona scooped up some of the main dish, rich flavors temporarily overwhelming her sense of taste and resisted the urge to try to smooth the creases away. 

“Solona,” the Commander began, fiddling with his food in a manner than made her both nervous and happy at how cute he was. “Would you be willing to come with me?”

“Where are we going?” Solona asked without thinking. Then she blinked, realizing what he was asking. _His family…_

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to but… I would really… like your company. And for you to meet them. And them you and…” Cullen closed his eyes for a brief second. “I’m not doing this right, am I? How about we start again. I am going to visit my family and—“

“I would love to.”

Cullen paused, eyes lighting up although he kept the rest of his face smooth. “You would?”

Solona’s blush that had been fading resurged across her cheekbones, tickling the tip of her nose. She itched at it, slightly self-conscious. “Yes. I mean… Your family is important to you… and so they are important to me,” she finished lamely with a soft smile. Cullen’s eyes warmed, seeming almost golden in the noon day sun. Solona’s blush turned to something else and she focused on her food, determined not to get distracted. 

They spoke of soft, small things for the rest of their meal, more to enjoy the sound of each other’s voice than to actually exchange information. When the food and words were gone, there was a long moment when brown eyes met and Solona’s chest reminded her that she was very much alive. 

“I’ll… see you tonight.” Solona began in a whisper and then coughed once before actually using her voice. 

“I look forward to it,” Cullen said, standing. Solona followed, starting to clean up their plates. The templar remained, hesitant and she glanced up. Lips crashed down and rough hands cupped her face, blocking the outside world. After a second, the force diminished, replaced by gentle care and tenderness that made her knees weak. 

Cullen made a noise as she began to sway, pulling back to gift her with one of his brilliant smiles. “Tonight then,” he said, breathlessness making him seem younger, almost boyish. Solona’s cheeks ached as her smile stretched between them. A press of moist skin against her forehead and then the Commander was gone, striding off through the statues and flowers. 

Solona watched him go, broad shoulders swaying confidently and set her hand down the table. Something shifted and in an instant, she was on the ground, the two empty plates sitting on her lap. She stared at them for a long moment, not quite understanding but then she laughed, picking up the eating utensils to bring to the kitchens.

Dagna was already eyes-deep in their other project by the time Solona made it back to the Undercroft. The dwarf poked a small fragment of Skyhold’s wall, using a magnifying piece of glass she had fashioned to get a better idea of what she was looking at. Solona watched for several moments before offering an opinion, making sure she knew exactly what they were going for. 

As before, the time went by quickly, magical theory distracting them from the placement of the sun and everything else. Only once did Solona glance at the dark amulet on the other table. The brief urge to touch it swept over her, but before her hand traitorously tried for the non-jewelry, Dagna asked for her opinion on something, successfully diverting her attention.

Before too long, the torches were providing a majority of the light in the cave-like structure. Solona stretched, muscles long since cramped up. Her stomach grumbled at her for forgetting about it and she yawned. 

“I think I’m done for the night, Dagna. You should probably take a break as well.”

The dwarf barely looked up from the rune they had been working on. “But it’s all so interesting! We are so close, I can almost taste it! If you could taste success that is.”

Solona cast a quick scanning spell. “Did you even eat today, Dagna?” she asked, trying to sound stern. The redhead barely blinked. “I think so. Maybe? I’ve had things to do.”

Making a note to get the kitchen staff to send a plate up, Solona shook her head and with a final good night, left the Undercroft. 

The passageways to the kitchen and then to Cullen’s tower were quiet, most of Skyhold having already found the places where they would spend the rest of their evening. Solona tightened her cloak against the ever-present chill and kept walking. In the time it took her nose tip to get numb, she knocked twice on the familiar door and entered the large room. 

Cullen glanced up from his small pile of papers and his eyes lit up. “I was wondering when you would get here. Did you and Dagna discover anything?” 

Solona rubbed at her arms, trying to settle down the goosebumps, and hung up her cloak on a peg. “Nothing today. We did some testing and I think the amulet is coming along. It is hard to test without more Wardens but we are managing.”

“You will figure it out,” Cullen said, moving to stand but Solona waved him down, instead walking around to place her hands over the fur collar that by this point seemed as a part of him as the scar on his lip. The massage spell that formed on her fingers felt like a thick blanket, muffling sensations. She ran her hands down the templar’s back, careful not to push too hard.

Cullen managed to resist for a long moment, determined to get some more work done, but his head drooped and she could almost see his eyelids closing as she got the places that were particularly sensitive.

“I know there is still papers to go over, but how would you feel about calling it good for the night… I can help with whatever you have left over tomorrow,” Solona raised her hands back up to his shoulders as the man below her turned to stone. He didn't look at her but she could see his ears reddening.

“I suppose they can wait,” the Commander allowed before turning to face her. Solona bit her lip. “I just have to take care of one more thing and then I’ll be right up.” A hesitant smile and she cut off the remainder of her spell that still clung to her hands, blue light fading out. Before she could out-think herself, she leaned down to kiss the man, heart skipping even after having done this for months. It was… nice. 

Cullen’s lips framed hers, making her mana start to run wild and it took all her willpower to pull away, energy slipping through her system like a snake. 

“I’ll be there,” Solona promised as the templar’s eyes narrowed, irises almost seeming gold instead of their normal brown. 

Aware that she was being watched, Solona slowly walked over to the ladder, hips swaying in what she could only hope was an enticing manner. As her foot came forward, the motion made it slid and she fell, hitting the ground hard with her elbow. 

Strong arms were hoisting her up before she had completely realized that she was on the ground. Solona dusted at her robes, face turned down to try to hide her embarrassment. So much for seducing him. 

Low laughter tickled her forehead as Cullen pressed his lips to the top of her head. “My work can wait.” 

“You don't have to—“ The self-depriving excuse slammed to a stop when Cullen bent down to kiss her, tongue questing. Solona swallowed her doubts as the templar pushed her back into the ladder, leg nudging its way in between her own. Large hands traced her sides, sending shivers down her spine as they moved to cup her bottom, squeezing slightly. 

Air coming in gasps Solona arched her neck as Cullen moved down the exposed flesh, making her world spin. 

“Do you need help getting upstairs?” A low voice murmured against her pulse. Solona fought back a moan as his mouth pressed against the vulnerable skin, trying to think straight.

“No. But… perhaps I should go up first.” 

“Fine by me.” The templar stepped back and Solona was finally able to breath, even despite the fact that brown eyes pressed their gaze against her. 

Ever so carefully she turned and climbed up the ladder, alternating hand and foot as she pulled herself up to the loft above. Starlight lit the small space as the magical barrier kept out the weather. Standing, Solona melted into the happiness that she always kept a length away. When a familiar body pressed into her back, hands curving around her hips, the smile deepened and she turned to get her kiss. 

Some time and movement later, Solona tried to shift her butter warm limbs and failed completely. In front of her, her thumb flicked before settling amongst curly blond hair, skin warm against her finger tips. Underneath her head, she could just make out Cullen’s heartbeat, steady and sure. The Commander shifted slightly and as his hand closed around hers, he snored, sounding more like a kitten than the lion she sometimes thought of him as. 

Eyes heavy, Solona nuzzled into her shoulder-pillow, unable to silence a small noise of contentment. “I love you, Cullen,” she whispered into skin.

Almost as if he could hear her, the templar pulled her closer, rough stubble nuzzling against the top of her head. Solona hide a smile and then allowed herself to fall asleep, troubles of the day no more than a dark cloud amidst a sky of blue.

She was safe. She was loved. She was home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About ten months and over a hundred thousand words later, we reach the end of this journey. I hope you have enjoyed it as much I have. Thank you so much for all your kind comments and kudos, I don't know if I could have finished this without them. :)
> 
> And so I leave you with this epilogue... and to paraphrase Varric "for you, dear readers, endless sunsets and roses".


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